


The Mythical Creature's Guide to Modern Warfare

by aadarshinah



Series: The Guide Series [3]
Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: F/M, Minor Character Death, POV First Person, Unplanned Pregnancy, Vampires, Violence, Volturi, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-09
Updated: 2011-10-09
Packaged: 2017-10-24 10:48:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 26
Words: 84,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/262625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aadarshinah/pseuds/aadarshinah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The pack's doing well and Leah's even starting to mellow out (if only a little), but forces outside their control are determined to see them and the Cullens destroyed once and for all</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Alfa

**Author's Note:**

> part two of The Guide Series

"Good intentions can bring about as much destruction as an evil conqueror. Either way, the result is the same."

Zensunni Lament in Brian Herbert & Kevin J. Anderson's Dune: The Machine Crusade

* * *

 

"In double boiler," I read out loud with the air of one try to translate Chinese to Greek while the Khans are after me, "over simmering water, melt one-third cup butter, one-half cup semisweet chocolate squares, and one-third cup port. Stir and cool."

Glancing once more at the cookbook – to make sure the recipe hadn't changed after I read it – I turned around and knelt down in front of the cabinet. At least ninety different varieties of pots and pans sat inside, from tiny saucepans to large woks. I could identify those, the fondue pot (and shuddered, wondering if they'd tried eating strawberries in blood fondue), and the griddle. But I'd no idea what in God's name a double boiler was, let alone what it might look like, though I had the vague idea of "fry cooker" in my head as a starting point.

"Jesus-fucking-damn-it!" I spat and slammed the doors shut so hard a crack appeared down the centre of the wood. Such was my emotional turmoil, I felt kinda bad about it, and felt tears prickling behind my eyes like I was a stupid five-year-old girl. Or Edward.

"Something wrong, Fluffy?"

"Ah," I said, looking upwards to see Emmett's lovely face grinning devilishly down at me, "my pulse-challenged friend, do you happen to know what a 'double-boiler' is?" If he didn't, he better get the hell out of here, 'cause I might very well phase from the anger, and I didn't want him stealing my clothes if I did.

His mouth pinched together in thought, then broke again into a smile as he answered, "No. Ask Esme."

"I told her I could do this by myself!" Great. That was distinctly channelling a five-year-old. Must stop, or all is lost.

"She doesn't mind helping, you know. In fact, she'd probably be overjoyed to."

"Don't you have someone else to go bother?"

"No. Rose's out with Nessie and Alice and Jasper are having sex-"

"God!" I screamed, covering my ears with my hands. Too much information! "If I wanted those kind of details I'd've asked, you sheep-bagging snot-licker!"

Petulantly, "But you did ask."

"I asked if you had anyone else to bother – simple yes/no question! It doesn't not require me to know the bodily doings of everyone you could be bothering instead."

"Which is necessary for me to explain how everyone else is busy."

"You are an A-class jerk, just so you know."

"I get that a lot, actually."

I rolled my eyes, imagining that he did, then opened the cabinet again. "Somehow, I'm not surprised... Now, if I were a double boiler, where would I be?"

"Between the single and triple boilers," Emmett saw fit to answer.

Me, I didn't take this well, and grabbed what I thought was a cast iron skillet and began to beat his leg (the only part of him I could reach from the floor) with it. "You. Are. Not. Helping. Now get the fuck out of my kitchen!"

"Technically-"

"Don't give me that technically, you overgrown parasite! I'm the only one here that eats at the moment and I'm the one trying to cook. So get the fuck out."

With one last evil smile at me, like he knew something I didn't, and a look at the thoroughly dented pan, he left the kitchen. And then yelled, for all the vampires to hear (as if they hadn't already), "Puppy's on her period."

I hated vampires.

Why, might you ask, was I in Vampire Central Station then? Well, their kitchen was the "it" place for my pack to be during mealtimes, but it was nowhere near dinnertime yet. In fact, the boys weren't even back from school yet – which was, in part, why I was at the Manor. It was kinda dull living a forest with most of your, er, rock-mates gone most the day. But I was alone, again, in the kitchen.

To put it simply, I was trying to bake a cake.

Yes. I, Leah Jacqueline Clearwater, was, with bits of leaf still in my hair and dirt irrevocably embedded into my skin, trying to bake a chocolate strawberry port cake. From scratch. Without Esme's help. Because I was stupid and spent too much time around vampires who'd been alive at the turn of the century, when people did things like this, who had poisoned my mind with girly thinking and coerced me into trying to do something special for my Alpha's eighteenth birthday as my lack of monetary funds makes the usual purchase of such things as birthday gifts difficult. Which was tomorrow. And this idea was better then Alice's suggestion of lingerie, which seriously disturbed me for the moment it took me to realize that said lingerie on me would have been his gift. Any shopping excursion with vampires with entirely too much money and time on their undead hands, however, would have been bound to end badly, otherwise I might have given it at this moment and gone begging to be taken to Victoria's Secret. Well, that and the fact that Emmett had told me-

No, it's too gross to repeat. Creepy vampire love; worse then wrinkly old people love, but only by virtue that they were dead old people. Shudder.

But there was still the main problem: today was 17 November. Tomorrow was 18 November, which, again, happened to be Jake's birthday. And I needed to find a double boiler between now and then. Because I'd been brainwashed and decided it was a good idea to bake a cake and was trying to do it without Esme's help, because she made everything that the pack ate and I wanted to prove to myself that, though I ran around half-naked in the forest and didn't get periods and whatever else, I was still a girl. Obviously, I failed.

"It's the two-piece aluminium number behind the stock pot," came a voice – Esme's – from the door. She was probably concerned about the state of her kitchen after all the screaming that had taken place.

And that helped me how, exactly? "Which one's the stock pot?"

"The big one."

"I see," pulling it out with a crash of metal-on-metal and opening it. "And what do I do with it?"

"You put water in the bottom and your ingredients in the top half."

"This may be a stupid question: but don't you boil things in water?"

"You're cooking with the steam."

"I am?" I looked back at the cookbook. I was sure I would have noticed if it said I had to bake a cake using steam power. It didn't look like it was from the 19th century... It was at this point Mama Vamp took the double-boiler thing from my hands. I was allowed to beat the eggs yokes in sugar.

Which is what I was doing when the boys piled in the kitchen, looking for me. Or, at least, Jake and Seth and Quil were. Embry was probably out running already. Or he'd gotten stuck in the car door. Whatever. I could only mother these boys so much before it was obvious they needed professional help.

"Oh my God. The world's ending," Jake said, seeing me stirring the egg-sugar mixture, and putting his hand over his heart, as if he was having a heart attack.

"Not funny, jerkwad," I spat back. Dad had died of heart problems. I was just a little sensitive on the matter. A little fucking sympathy would be nice from my own Alpha/boyfriend.

Coming over and kissing me on the cheek, he brushed my insult right off, like only Jake could do. I loved him 'cause he knew when not to take my anger seriously and when to argue right back at me. I don't want to say he's perfect – alright, yes I do, but I'm sure I'm biased. "Sure, sure. What ya making?"

Seth, who'd already taken over string the double-boiler thing from Esme, who in turn was now raiding the pantry, looked at the recipe. "Great! Cake! Leah, hand me the bowl please," anything to get out of this kitchen and anywhere where I wasn't required to cook. Or brainwashed into cooking, "and start on the egg whites-"

"Oooh, bad idea man," Quil said, ducking. Which was a good idea, 'cause this was just ridiculous. All this hard work, looking for pots and dealing with vampires and, God, was that tears? Again? I'm getting sick and tired of this hyper-emotional thing I've been doing for the last couple of days, and for that reason more then anything else I flung the fucking bowl at him a moment later. He caught it, of course, but all the egg yolks spilled down his shirt, which was a nice alternative to physical pain.

"Fine. Make your own fucking cake. See if I care," and with that I stormed out of the Cullens' and onto the porch. God damn it all. Emmett was right – three words I never thought to think together at any one time – I was hormonal. I couldn't even make a stupid cake without flipping out. Yesterday I'd flipped out one of the sleeping bags 'cause I couldn't get it to roll up properly. Like nearly phased and tore it to fuzzy little pieces flipped out. And I'm sure Major Pain and Fat Head have another bet going on about whether or not I actually finish the cake or not, which just makes everything worse. I'll... I'll force them to eat something. That'll show them. Okay, probably not, but it'd make me feel a whole lot better right now.

There was a creak on the wood as Jake joined me – I knew it was him, even though I couldn't smell him with the wind this way or sense him at all, because he was the only one who would have dared approach me when I was angry. Or freaking out. "I hate PMS," I said, leaning with my elbows on the railing. Surprise, it was raining again in Forks. Somebody call the papers.

"Is that what this is?" he asked, standing behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist. He was warm and piney and perfect and I'd almost gotten over my fear that he'd imprint on the first bimbo he came across when I wasn't around. Almost. He was still seventeen freaking years old, almost eighteen, and I wanted to spend the rest of my supernatural life with him, because he made me feel the most alive I've ever been. Even if his dad is a complete nutcase about wanting grandchildren, seeming to forget the tiny little problem of me being an irate menopausal werewolf. "'Cause, if this is what you're like on your period, we're going to have to put Seth on ADHD meds, else you might kill him."

I rolled my eyes even though he couldn't see it. "He's been around sixteen years; I've not killed him yet. But I don't mean that. I mean Post Moon Syndrome."

My body vibrated with his as he laughed into my neck, kissing me slowly beneath my ear. "I think you've just spent too much time around the Cullens and the pack."

That too, but, "No more then you have," I moaned softly, leaning my head back against his shoulder.

"We, at least, get to go to school. But you've been stuck here since we made the deal with Sam."

"It'll pass," I said distractedly. Jake, me, rock, now – those were, honestly, the only four words I was thinking with any clarity. So what if it was frightfully boring, my life? I had Jake weekday afternoons and all-day on weekends. That counted for something. Even if I ended up playing mother hen to my brother and his annoying friends too.

"I think you need a vacation."

"Need money for a vacation, Jake. I just need to stop listening to Sleepless Beauty when she suggests that I, oh, knit. Or cook. Or make macaroni art with Nessie."

"I-" he began, his lips brushing against my neck with every word. But he never did continue, for a scream rent the air from inside the house, and we rushed back inside to see what was the matter.

We, along with the rest of the pack and the Cullens, found Alice standing at the top of the stairs a moment later, screaming like a banshee at a God-damn decibel contest.

"Well," I said brightly, "this can't be good."


	2. Bravo

"Life... is like a grapefruit. It's orange and squishy, and has a few pips in it, and some folks have half a one for breakfast."

Douglas Adams Life, the Universe, and Everything

* * *

After several minutes, the pipsqueak stopped doing that God-awful screaming and, with a very calm, unperturbed voice, said, "Tanya and the others are coming for Christmas," before coming down the stairs and joining us in the living room as if nothing odd had happened. All this, for dinner guests? I could be at my rock right now... Though I think I've heard that name before... Tanya, Tanya... hmmm...

I looked to Jake. He seemed as out of the loop as I did. Embry was probably freaking out on his patrol that we were being attacked and didn't want to leave the borders in case it was a diversion... one of us would have to get the details and phase for him, or else he might have a doggy spaz attack... Which would be bad, 'cause though I made the most fun of Embry, it was only because he was, in many ways, the most normal of us. Hell, he even loved being a werewolf, though he admitted it did suck that it meant he couldn't play basketball 'cause of the awful, werewolfing-waits-for-no-man-to-attend-practice thing that tends to go on when, oh, insane vampires are attacking the Cullens for killing their mates or, trying to attack the Cullens for the same reason, or trying to kill them and getting killed instead happen all the time, but never on any sort of regular schedule. He annoyed me less then my brother, at least, though that wasn't saying much.

Jasper, who'd been coming down the stairs after her, (oh, did I forget to mention that, thanks be to God, they were both dressed, despite Emmett's earlier TMI-sharing), paused halfway down them. Literally. Like he was stepping down to the next step and his foot was just paused perfectly in mid-air. Of course, being an undead demon, he didn't fall or anything, but it was still kinda cool to see. "Well, that's not good."

Like I said, dipshit. Now, why is it not good?

"Why you say that, Jazz?" Emmett asked, seeming to sink at the thought we weren't going to be attacked by one hundred thirty highly-trained black-ops snipers, two dozen DELTA Force commandos, or Chuck Norris with a BB-gun. The boy has problems, what else can you say? I should rent him out for parties. It'd be quick cash. Or sell him to Area 52. "The only one who might be in danger is Edward."

Oooh, she didn't like the mind-raper either? It took all of my willpower to not clap my hands together and start cheering. We can form a fan club and make cheap buttons that say, "Stop the Rape of Forks," that have a picture of a fork in the background...

Edward, being, of course, the mind-raper in question, gave me an exasperated look before turning to Emmett. "Har, har, Emmett. But I think Jasper has a point."

Which might be? For those of us who don't go around invading people's minds?

Luckily, Alice-in-Wonderland decided to give the rest of us a heads up. "Renesmee is growing fast. But she'll not look much older then a toddler by Christmas..."

To which, in a hushed, worried voice Carlisle finished, "She'll look like an Immortal Child..."

And his wife finished, compassion bleeding from her voice so badly I was surprised none of the vampires fell to the ground to lap it up, "...and The Volturi killed their mother for creating one..."

And that explained why, in some bizarre way I couldn't understand that I'd followed, why there weren't any two-year-old vampires running around – 'cause, I mean, have you seen vampire women? They totally have this thing about wanting kids. Rose was killing to let Bella die to get her baby. Esme, I'd learned, had tried to kill herself over hers and wound up being turned instead. If they couldn't have little vampires, I guess they settled for a house full of hormonal teenagers... Though, I must say, as someone who can't have kids, if I had the choice between being childless for all eternity and having to raise Seth, Quil, and Embry for my entire undead life, I'd choose the no kids. But, then again, I am for children as what Dracula is to the vampire word. Probably... "Eat all your veg," the parents would say (the parents in this daydream having wicked British accents; I've tried to get Carlisle to speak in his, 'cause as a British vamp he's got to have one, but surprisingly he won't, nor will Jasper do his Southern Gentlemen – it's very depressing). "No," the kids, of course, would say, also with ridiculously cool British accents. "Eat them, or we'll send you to Leah..." and then, of course, the kids would go pale and start shovelling the peas or whatever.

My brother, of course, was my brother. "I don't get it."

"It means vampires kill each other over having baby vampires, shit-for-brains," Quil said, punching him as he did so – Quil is the smartest of our pack, honour roll and everything, the jerk, - "and Nessie looks like a baby vampire."

"Her name is Renesmee."

Yes, Bella darling, because now, while we're concerned over your daughter's eminent destruction, is the time to insist upon the horrendous name you gave her. God, calling her Tuity-Fruity would have been better.

But Edward and Bella were all ready to go into protective mode – Rose was already there, holding The Thing, who, indeed, looked closer to eighteen months then, oh, maybe eighteen weeks – and so neither noticed my thoughts or the unbecoming look I was sending in their direction. I really hoped Mom had better sense then to marry Charlie, 'cause having this group as step-in-laws would possibly be the worst torture known to werewolf.

"So," said Jake slowly, and everyone turned to look at him. As I was standing next to him, one of his arms was around my shoulder, this meant they were looking at me too. I wished they wouldn't. I was feeling disgusting and, if they so much raised their fucking eyebrow the wrong way, the day might end in vampire slaughter. Which would solve the apparent guests-are-visiting; how-do-we-let-them-know-the-blood-drinking-toddler-they-see-is-a-human/vampire-hybrid-and-not-an-Immortal-Child issue, but probably might not make anyone who survived very happy. And angry vampires would not bake me a replacement cake for the one that smelled like it was starting to burn in the kitchen, "do you try to tell these vampire friends of yours about Nessie-"

"Renesmee."

Whatever, you cheap-dollar-store-brand-popcicle-doing whore.

"-or," Jake continued, and to my intense pleasure it seemed he was restraining an eye-roll, which, though it was cheap and petty, especially when we were discussing the possible attack upon an innocent half-human child, made me intensely happy. Why, you ask? Because it signified once and for all that Bella-the-Vampire was and always would be only a friend to him. He didn't love her. Not any more. Now, when she invariably realized her fucktard husband was a complete überloser (a German term for, sparkling, lily-assed-vampire-who, while-he-can-read-your-mind, doesn't-translate-your-thoughts-properly-when-needed-and-won't-stay-out-of them-when-not; seriously. Look it up) and, though he'd fathered a child on her, was probably gay, I wouldn't have to worry about anything from her corner when she came running to Jake. No, I just had to worry about the 2.99999 billion other girls on the planet he could possibly imprint upon, or would be desirous of him doing so. Not that I'm worried or anything... Jake loves me, will not pull a Sam, end of story, now try to listen to what he's saying. Now mind, now, "do you tell them they can't visit?"

"We can't do that," Esme immediately protested. Though I was given to understand that these vampire friends of theirs were multiple times older, her natural desire to mother people seemed to be kicking in, even for these transitory guests. I hope this didn't mean she going to stop making us food.

"We could tell them the population of larger mammals can't support six more of us – EHDV or MCF or something like that among the deer, or just over-hunting; believable enough although-"

"Although," Big-Head Ed finished for him, "it's a short enough run to Canada or Wyoming that it wouldn't be enough to stop them."

Mrs. Big-Head offered her own half-cent: "We could tell them that the humans are getting suspicious and we have to leave."

"No," (this time it was Jasper, who was now sitting next to his wife on the couch. She was leaning against his shoulder, looking very tiny and very breakable, and not at all like one of these shiny, stone leeches we werewolves were born to destroy. She'd probably been younger then me when she'd been turned, maybe even younger then Bella. No matter how many hundreds of years old she might be, she was still a teenager, still filled with that writhing pot of hormones that was, even now, making me dreadfully sad for her and would, assuredly, make me see red in a moment or so I was sure). "It may have been a couple of centuries since any of them had to deal with newborns, but they know we've changed Bella and she's only a few months old. Even though she's doing so well controlling her thirst, we can't risk moving unless there's an accident – not until her control is certain – and they've no idea how well she's been doing. And, even if we tell them there's been an accident and we're moving, they'll probably invite us to Denali, since it's so isolated."

Esme spoke again, "And if we tell them Bella's still too new, they'll still probably come. Thirteen experienced vampires instead of seven to watch after a newborn? They'll know that every body would help."

And if newborn vampires are so notoriously hard to control, why did we let you make one near our Rez again? Oh yes, because we didn't want Bella to die. Stupid girl. Two words: birth control. Look them up – though I suppose its too late now. Le sigh.

No one really seemed to know what to say next. So I did, because, for some odd reason, they were still looking in my general direction and it was really starting to peeve me off. If they're going to look at me, they might as well have reason to do it or else I'll have to find a way to get vampire blood out of fuzzy white carpet before I sold their house and all their belongings on ebay. "Since no one seems willing to be rude to these vamps, just find a way to show them she's not one of these Immortal Children."

"The problem with that," Alice said, still leaning against her husband's shoulder, "is getting them to sit and listen and not go running off to the Volturi the moment they see her.

"Tie them down?" I shrugged, then looked over my shoulder at Quil and my brother, who, naturally, couldn't think of anything helpful to say. "One of you want to go tell Embry the world's not ending?"

"Better then listening to leeches argue," Quil said, running he wanted out of here so bad. Poor Quil. Not being able to see Claire every moment of every day made him so annoying to be around.

"Good, 'cause I think the cake's burning."

Turning tail, "SHIT!" Seth cursed. God, girly much? I'm going to have to scrounge up some cash and buy him some training bras... Though it was a waste of perfectly good chocolate. How depressing. I could very well cry for the sadness of it. I swear, if Emmett was right and I was, for some God-unknown reason, going into heat, I was going to strangle him. Because it was obviously his fault. If he'd never mentioned it, it wouldn't be happening. He's probably been slipping fertility drugs into my food at Billy's request... No, Billy'd never talk to Emmett. It must be Esme who's doing it. Stupid Esme. Too bad I like her cooking too much to stay angry at her for long. Stupid Billy then. I curse him. May all the grandchildren he ever have be Paul and Rachel's. Ha. Take that Billy.

I've so lost it.

"Or," said Jake more sensibly (as he'd ignored the insanity behind us), "you could just take Nessie for a day trip when they get here and explain to them before she comes back."

There was silence. It actually sounded like a good idea too. Wow. Body and brains. Jake never ceases to surprise me... And I'd surprise him if we can get out of here and back to the rock, because vampire seating arrangements and whatnot are just not my cup of tea, at least not when I should be still kissing Jake. Stupid hormones. A good war would be a lot less painful then cooking too...

The phone started ringing. It rang four times before Carlisle walked to the receiver whining plaintively on the glass coffee table and answered.

"Hello?"


	3. Charlie

"I don't think of the future. As long as I have enough money for three weeks' rent  
and a pound or two over for food I never bother. Life wouldn't be worth living  
if I worried over the future as well as the present."

Mrs. Nesbit in W. Somerset Maugham's Of Human Bondage

* * *

You know the part that annoyed me the most about Carlisle picking up the phone in the middle of the "discussion"? That he didn't say "Hello" in a cool British accent. How said is that? God, that would be so cool though... On Buffy and everything all the vampires still had their accents. But, then again, on Buffy the vampires could be killed by sunlight and pointy sticks. My life would be so much easier if that was the case. I mean, a) when Emmett begins to bug me I could taunt him with a curtain, which would be hilarious, b) Bella would never, ever have fallen in love with a guy who wonders around only by night and on only the cloudiest of days here in Forks, even if she is a complete nutcase who, again, hasn't realized Edward's überloseryness or his general gay douche-bagginess, and, if the idiots had never fallen in love, she'd never have been knocked up, and I'd not be here to protect her demon spawn, living at a rock; and, c) I wouldn't have to play Monopoly or Xbox or Jinga with them all freaking day when I get too close to Jasper and he lets it out that I'm bored. I've even helped them (or attempted to help them) tidy (or, again, attempted to tidy) their basement; I did get a couple pairs of bell-bottoms and some flip flops out of the deal, though.

Anyway, Jake seemed interested in staying to find out what the bloodsuckers decided, I guess 'cause he's Alpha and all and that kind of thing is important to the existence of the pack, so I stayed to – though I did plop down on the nearest couch, pulling Jake with me so I could rest my head on his lap. God, even the vampire's ceiling is perfectly white. I'd been hoping after last week's incident with Emmett and a homemade pudding gun, something would have stained.

"...heard from you in a while, Kate," Carlisle continued. Kate? I thought the problem was with Tanya. Were they sister-vamps or gay lovers or something (that's another thing: why haven't I heard about any gay vampires. Oh, yes, there are all these vampires out there getting and avenging mates of the opposite sex, but have no homosexuals been turned into vampires, like, ever, or does vamping "cure" it or what? Hell, this is going to bother me for the rest of the day, I just know it)? Or was this someone else wanting to come and bother us for Christmas? "Yes, everyone is here. Let me put you on speaker."

I guess the speaker phone thing was for the phone's benefit, not the leeches – who, as surely as I could, hear everything that this "Kate" person was saying, but, without yelling, could not make themselves be picked up by the mic from across the room.

"Allo, my kuzins," this Kate person said, heavy on the Russian accent. I restrained a smile, which Jake noticed. He smiled back down at me, and started to play with my hair as we listened. Or, at least tried to listen. No matter how cool an accent is, Jake playing with my hair makes it kinda hard to concentrate... Still, it was only vampire catching-up I was missing out on.

"Hey," "Hello," and, "Hi, Kate" came from various corners of the room. Except from Emmett. He asked, rather plainly, "What's up with the accent, Katie baby? Last time we heard from you, you were doing Catalan."

"I got nostalgic, da – and tired of Carmen and Eleazaar getting angry wiz me about it. But it took me ages convincing Tanyen'ka, but, if you do not mind, all of us – well, not Irina, she still razer... upset ower ze loss of her mate – but Tanya, Carmen, Eleazaar and I're descending upon you for Christmas."

The vampires looked around, and then, typically, Esme answered for the group. "No, we wouldn't mind having you visit." I guess we'd have to find a way to convince the overgrown ticks that Nessie wasn't a monster... at least, not in their sense of the word.

"Good. I-," suddenly she stopped and, when she returned a moment later, her accent had disappeared entirely, becoming as flat and unspectacular as I imagined my own was. Which just sucked. "Oh, shit. It looks like Carmen discovered the-"

And the phone went dead.

"Well," I said, sitting up, "that sure was enlightening. Do all you vampires get that bored and play practical jokes on each other, or is that just a vegetarian peculiarity?"

Carlisle looked at me oddly and, rather sombrely I thought, answered. "No. She was just something of a jester in the court of Grand Prince Vladimir I of Kiev..."

I'd no idea how long ago that was, let alone who this Vladimir person was, but didn't much care either way. "Whatever. I'm heading out before Seth starts crying man-tears over the cake," I don't think I could take any more freaking drama today. Really, I don't think I could. Feeling sorry for vampires, baking cakes – and, of course, being interrupted when I was trying to have a good time with Jake – was just too much for me. At the door, I turned around and asked, "You coming?" to said AWOL Alpha and headed out.

That didn't stop me from hearing him sigh and tell the leeches, "Sorry, but duty calls," before he ran to catch up with me. I punched him when he did. "Hell, Leah, what was that for?"

"Duty am I?" I was seeing red now. I told you. My stupid emotions. I'll probably be giggling in five minutes or something else incredibly stupid and caused by the presence of too much pink. Pink can cause cancer and mood swings, you know. Some guys with cool German accents proved it.

Sounding surprised, "You don't want to circle the wagons and run double patrols?"

I looked at him like he was crazy. "Over dinner guests who aren't coming for a month? Hell no!" Then again, he was dating me, so that was probably a given. For a fleeting moment I wished he'd a shirt so I could grab him by it, then I realized what I was thinking and dismissed it entirely. If it wasn't for the fact I knew the Rez school had a no shirt, no shoes policy, I'd have wondered if he even owned any. Not that I'm complaining. He may be seventeen, nearly eighteen, but I like looking at him. And being around him. And, of course, kissing him, too, and having sex with him. Yes, I have no shame. "We are going to go back to the rock, and we are going to finish what we started."

He laughed. "Why, Miss Clearwater, are you trying to seduce me?"

"Trying? No. I just spent the better part of the day trying to bake you a birthday cake, failed utterly and completely, and then had you show up and be all sweet to me. Plus," I said, pushing him against the nearest tree and, standing on the tips of my toes, pressed myself close to him so I could whisper in his ear, "in case you haven't noticed, I kinda have this thing for you..."

I intended to pull away then, and have him lusting after me so damn bad he practically carried me back to the rock – I dunno. Try to be sexy and mysterious or something (I guess I'd been watching too many James Bond movies; stupid vampires and their collection of every DVD every made). But no. I was my own undoing, because, pressed against him like that, not only could he feel all of me, I could feel all of him. And he smelled just so God-damned wonderful I couldn't stop myself, and was kissing him along his jawline and he was trying to find my lips and our hands were going everywhere, right there with him pinned up against a tree 'bout quarter mile from the rock, where anyone could see us.

Not that I cared a fucking five-pence about anyone else at the moment, I was just thinking with the girlier parts of me – the parts affected the most by those duck-raping ass-grabbing fertility treatments I knew now somebody had to be slipping me, because I'd not been this much of a freaking hormonal roller coaster since... I dunno, whenever my last period was, ages ago now. That's the one great thing about this whole menopausal werewolf thing. Okay, make that two. One: no annoying periods to worry about. Two: no need to worry about not having condoms when you're doing it with your werewolf boyfriend against a tree in the middle of the forest – and forcing my tongue into my Alpha's mouth.

What the fuck was I doing thinking now, anyway? Because every time with Jacob was like the first, and he made me feel so God-damned loved it was amazing the rest of the pack hadn't sent us to S.A.A. yet just so they could get some fucking peace. I mean, in the past two months, I'd heard more "Alpha pair" jokes then had probably existed before, well, two months ago. No, whatever it was, there was no denying the undeniable attraction between the two of us, and it made me feel really stupid to look back and wonder how I'd fought him for so long. I didn't worry so much about him leaving me any more, or really anything. I'd given up worrying. Or, at least, had tried to. Because I had him now and so what if the visiting vampires might cause problems for us or he might imprint on someone and leave me here, alone, with only a rock to my name, or anything else. Okay, so largely the non-worrying thing had failed, but it was so hard not to forget everything and just be when I was with him. He made me feel alive for the first time in my life.

"Wow," Jake managed when we found the strength to pull away from each other and collect our now thoroughly dirt-smudged clothing. "Remind me to be nice to you more often."

I snorted, shoving him slightly as he went to wrap an arm around me as we walked – a habit of his that carried over to when we were both wolves, so that we'd bump into each other as we walked, or he'd rest his head behind mine like I was a giant headrest or something, or we'd find up curled about each other when we slept phased, no matter how far apart in our like rocky den we might have fallen asleep. Seth and Quil, who ran the night shift and thus were the ones usually phased when Jake and I took over for the morning patrol (Embry did afternoons and evenings; he was the most uncomfortable abound the leeches out of all of us, and preferred to have us just bring him the leftovers then actually go inside their house whenever possible), called it the most ridiculous flirting they'd ever seen. Well, that's what Quil called it. Seth called it disgusting and would have been happier if Jake avoided me entirely. Like that's going to happen. "I swear I think Emmett's right, despite being an idiotic, fantasy-football-playing jock, and I'm going into heat. That's the only explanation I can think of."

It was Jake's turn to snort, walking backwards so he could look at me as he said, "I love you, Leah. You love me. We are teenage werewolves with minimal hormonal control and no parental supervision. I think it'd be stranger if we could keep our hands to ourselves."

"I tried to bake you a freaking cake today, Jake. I think something's wrong with me."

"You have many issues, Leah, but that's not one of them."

I looked at him blankly. "Bake. Me. Cake. What part of that strikes you as normal?"

"It was a nice thing to try, and nobody ever said you weren't nice."

"Let's see... Embry did this morning when I kicked him awake... Emmett did on Thursday – and Wednesday, and last Monday – and Seth did yesterday-"

"Ah, you only kicked Embry 'cause you didn't want us to be late for school again."

"If you try to make me out to be a nice person, Jacob Black, I will shave you." See how he liked running around as a hairless werewolf. He'd look like an overgrown Mexican Hairless or whatever those bald dogs are called. Or maybe a poodle, with his legs and arms all hairy, and his head and back bald? Creepy. I'll have to borrow a camera from the leeches if I ever try it.

"I'm just saying, Lee. If, for some strange, bizarre reason Emmett is right and, somehow or another, you manage to get pregnant, I don't think you'd be a bad mother."

Askance. That's the only word to describe the look I gave him as I stopped to try to make sense of what he was saying. "You've been sniffing something, haven't you? In Wood Shop. You and the boys have been sniffing glue in Wood Shop haven't you?"

He paused and walked back to me when he realized I wasn't going to go anywhere for a long time. With a resigned sigh. "I'm being completely serious, Leah."

I blinked at him. "I don't know who you're thinking about, but could you imagine me with kids? I mean, there's a reason I never baby sat." I thought about it for a moment. "I must have concussed you pushing you into that tree." Damn, it was worth it though. I felt marginally better already, but which I mean less likely to shred innocent sleeping bags.

"Dad his this idea-"

"Say no more. He's probably drugging us both. Viagra and Clomid and aphrodisiacs galore. I don't know how, but he-"

"-that life is one big chocolate chip-"

"-is. I know! He must have sold his soul to the Dark Side-"

"-cookie, and that-"

"-and is getting Carlisle to drug us for- Wait. Did you just say cookie?"

"Yeah. Dad his this idea life should be like a cookie, unplanned and full of grandchildren for him."

"How on earth does he get grandchildren out of 'life is a cookie'?"

"I dunno," he shrugged (and I, who have enough issues to be a class in psychiatrist school, watched is muscles ripple as he did. It was a guilty pleasure, especially as, for today at least, he was still under-age), "a lot of what he says doesn't make any sense. I'd have gone to Old Quil, but he was out fishing or something, so Dad was the best I could do."

"Is this your not-so-subtle way of telling me you want kids? 'Cause, unless Emmett's 'miracle' happens, I've gotta tell you, it's not happening."

"I still say you'd be a good mom, regardless of whether your ovaries ever function again or not."

"And I still say you're smoking something – but it's all moot anyway, as I am a person, not a dog, do not go into heat, and distinctly menopausal." Unless Emmett was right...

God, I hope not. The world might end if that happens.

I think.


	4. Delta

"Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray..."

Dylan Thomas "Do Not Go Gentle into that Good Night"

* * *

Jake's birthday came without any of the insanity I'd come to expect from the leeches – which was to say, we were not woken by all nine of them descending upon our rock/den with streamers and confetti. Though, if they had, and brought food, I'd have been slightly less angry. Probably still maimed them, but have eaten the food first.

Wake up, sleepyhead.

I lifted my head from my paws and looked up blearily. I hate morning.

Jacob was already awake, sitting sphinx-like across from me. He'd lowered his head enough so we ere on eye-level, though barely, and was giving me a ridiculously wolfy grin. What? No jokes about how I'm legal now, can vote and buy cigarettes, and be drafted?

I thought about this for a moment, No. Not really. Wake me when you get a fake id and can go clubbing.

You want to go clubbing? he asked, surprised.

No, I admitted, but it was the first thing involving alcohol I could think of – bar hopping, I yawned. I should have said we could go bar hopping.

Tsk, tsk, Leah. He was even shaking his annoying doggy head. I just wanted to sleep right now, damn him and his birthday. Let him turn eighteen tomorrow. You shouldn't be drinking if we're trying to get pregnant.

My head, which had slunk back down, snapped back up as I jumped to my feet and lunged at him. For the last time, I insisted, pinning him down on his back and growling at his neck, I told you that there is no way in Mickey Mouse's candy cane hell I can, let alone wantto have kids, so the next time you joke about it, O High and Mighty Alpha, I will shave my name into your fur and dye the rest of it pink!

Sensing I was done – well, for the moment, at least – he flipped me over easily and licked me once on the muzzle before backing away. I'm sorry to tell you this, Goofy, he told me with that smug wolfy smile that, when awake, I classified as cute but now, since I wasn't, made me want to smack him, but I think you've got part of that wrong.

I snarled at him. Are you saying I secretly, deep down in my unconscious, I want to have children?

He rolled his doggy eyes at me and, with a weary step backwards, told me, Sniff.

Sniff. He told me to freaking sniff. Oh, yes, because I can obviously smell my unconscious desires better then I can see them. Forget glue, he and the boys were doing full on pot in Wood Shop. But, probably because it was somewhat instinctual, I did. I could smell pine trees – either from me or Jake or the trees themselves – and the holly berries and earthy undertone and- Wow. I never noticed how metallic crushed holly berries smelled. We were going to have to clear them out of the rock/den area so we stopped stepping on them... and salty too. How weird, berries smelling kinda like-

OH MY MOTHER-FUCKING GOD! I shouted. It was not, as you might imagine, a scream of joy, but one of intense anger and surprise. What the vampire-humping fuck, I asked, turning tighter and tighter circles trying to see my tail end, did you do to me, you sheep-stealing ass-warmer?

Because, you see, squashed holly berries really don't smell metallic and salty. In fact, the only thing I can think of that smells quite that way is the Dead Doc Walking and his coven's favourite food source. With me now? No. Well then, what about we saying that there was a thin layer of drying blood on the fur of my backside that had absolutely nothing to do with me scratching myself in my sleep. Ah, now you see.

Jake, however, was laughing at my reaction. I stopped trying to chase my tail and snapped my teeth at him. This is all your fault, you lard-poking piece of burger-flab.

Mine? He said with some surprise.

How the holy horse-fucking, nut-nibbling world did you manage to give me my fucking period?

Well, he said, wisely backing up some more, so he was almost out of the rock/den area entirely, you see, when a girl reaches a certain age, she goes into this thing called 'puber-'

And then I flipped so badly my dear, soon-to-be-deceased Alpha had no idea what hit him next. Running up to him, I am a freaking werewolf! I shouted at him. Wolves don't have periods!

Humans-

Grrrrr! I shouted at him, beginning to panic and 'chase my tail' again. This can't be happening. This is just some terrible nightmare. Next thing I know aliens will be landing and offering us exotic flavours of jello. I paused my circling, looking up for said aliens, but they didn't arrive. Oh shit oh shit oh shit shit shit, I settled for, circling again. Maybe, as I circled, I'd find what happened to all my marbles, 'cause I certainly didn't have them at the moment.

Slowly drawing near, Jake nudged me so I'd stop my relentless spinning. I stumbled, dizzy, for a moment, then leaned my head on his comfortably warm and furry back. We'll figure it out, Leah-

No we won't, I sniffled, feeling weepy and stupid and Gods-be-damned freaked out at the moment. Because I'm a genetic freak of werewolf nature and nothing about me seems to make any sense and I'm probably just dying of an internal haemorrhage and-

You're not dying of a haemorrhage, Leah- Jake began

How do you know that?

Well, he admitted.

See! See! This is absolute total madness! My genes are playing tricks with us... Oh, God damn it all. I sighed, Go get Tall, Blonde, and Snide, will you?

Rosalie? Why? I could almost feel him narrow his eyes. You're not going to kill her to make yourself feel better, are you? 'Cause we might have to run to Canada if you do.

I rolled my eyes and slipped my head off his back, using it to nudge him towards the entrance of the rock/den/whatever you want to call it. Alice doesn't remember any of her human life, talking to Esme would be like talking to my mom, shudder, and I'd sooner die of a haemorrhage then ask anything of Bella. Now go. Get Rose. Once he was off running, I thought of something else, And don't be late for school again! That's probably were Seth, Quil, and Embry were – thank God – at the Rabbit waiting for Jake. It's amazing they hadn't gotten detention yet for being late so often. Or maybe they had, and just skipped it. Hmm... I'd have to talk to them about that, after I figured out what the hell was going on with me.

What? And leave you here to deal, alone?

You WILL go to school, Jake, or-

Pink fur. Yes, I know dear.

Once I was sure Jake had sent Rose this way, I phased and proceeded to freak out like a human would. Which is to say, I threw on the longest dress I had (and all I owned were dresses, as one piece of fabric, however short, was still easier to carry then two, and I imagine going around shirtless like the guys did would probably cause me some unwanted attention) and started looking for something I could use as a makeshift "feminine hygiene project." I didn't hold much hope for this, as, as a werewolf, I had no underwear to put any pad-like object in and even less desire then that to use leaves as a makeshift tampon.

I was throwing less-then-carefully-put-away clothes out of the rucksack they were stored in when Rose arrived. "What seems to be the problem, mutt?"

"Aunt Flo," I said.

"What do I care if one of your mongrel family members is coming to town? I'd like to know why, when your boy-toy ran into the house, Edward burst into laughter. I was winning at Pictionary too."

I didn't know what to be more upset about for a moment, laughing Ed-weird or the leeches continual playing of dinner-party games. I quickly made up my mind and growled, "I am going to kill that hamster-beating emo Muppet."

"And you wanted to tell me this... why?"

The leech must not be using her nose. Not that I much minded at the moment, but still. "There is a war," I said slowly, and with as little malice as I could, "going on in Virginia."

"No," she said just as slowly, as if I were an idiot, "there's not."

"A red thread caught in the sewing machine?" I tried to no avail. "The playground's out of order? Moses is parting the Red Sea? Communists are in the summer house? Dracula's brown-bagging his lunch?" At some point towards the end of this list it seemed to dawn on her what I was talking about. When she gave a weary sniff, I couldn't resist one more, "Blow job week-"

"Alright, alright," Rose said, seeming slightly sickened (though more by the scent of my werewolf blood, I believe, then anything I was saying; I could only tell this, though, by the way she visibly stopped breathing. It was weird), "but I thought you-"

"Not since high school," I told her. Wow, how long ago was that? God, I'd forgotten how much I hated getting my period. Now that I was human, I could feel some definite cramps coming on. "Can't say I've missed them."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Let's just get you to Carlisle and see if he can't figure out what's going on."

"Yea, 'cause – wait. Stop, rewind, and freeze. What's this about Carlisle? I was just kinda hoping you could run out and pick me up some tampons or something."

Tugging my arm, "I feel so loved."

"Hey! It was either you or have Jake try to do it, and that'd be worse then a werewolf in a Chuck E. Cheese." I could so totally see the boys in one now. I wished I couldn't. The mayhem... There'd be nothing left standing.

"As interesting as that might be, even I know," she said very quickly, presumably so she'd not have to smell me, and still pulling me along after her, "that this is not normal."

"You're one to talk, Miss I-killed-Bambi's-Mom."

"I'm going to ignore that."

"Don't. Please."

"I'll have you know I found Bambi a very sad movie."

"Hell, is that the only think you immortal creatures do? Watch movies and play every game Milton-Bradley ever made?"

"We're in online college courses, since Bella's too new to travel."

"In what? Exercise and Sports Science?"

"No. Alice's doing Anthropology this time 'round, Jasper this 'Peace, War, and Defence' thing, I've decided on Computer Science, and Emmett's doing the pre-reqs for Seminary."

"What?"

"Well, I did all the literature and language classes I think I'll ever do in the '50s and '60s, and-"

"No. Seminary. Emmett. What?"

"Ah, yes. Well, he pinned all the majors he hasn't taken on a dart board, and we used the pudding gun prototype to shoot the dart..."

"Seminary?" I repeated again, blankly. My feet had stopped moving, but Rose hadn't noticed; she was still dragging me along.

"Yeah. He's going to try for Anglican priesthood, since we figured Carlisle could help him if he had any problems – Carlisle's farther was an Anglican pastor-"

"Priest? Emmett?"

"Will you stop repeating everything that I say?"

"Only when it starts making sense."

"Emmett just chooses a random major when we go through college. It's just what he does. He's gone through veterinary school, and majored in art, political science, Hebrew-"

"Hebrew!"

"Yeah, he was going to go to Rabbinical school, then Jasper had an accident-"

"I don't even want to know."

"-Electrical Engin-"

"I said I really don't want to know."

"Probably a good idea," she said, pulling me, still unwillingly, into the manor, where I could clearly hear the soon-to-be-re-dead Edward laughing. "Whatever you do, though, I suggest not mentioning baseball while


	5. Echo

I spent my whole life watching her... being, y'know... tough.  
And it was okay that she didn't let me in because... she didn't let anyone in. Right?  
And then, umm, two years ago she meets Jack, and she's all fluttering, and whispering secrets and..."

Jocelyn in Dollhouse "Haunted"

* * *

Literally rolling on the floor, Edward answered my question, "Because," he said through sharp intakes of unnecessary breath, "the Red Sox are playing."

As Charlie, Billy, and my dad are/were totally obsessed with baseball, I knew enough to know the Red Sox were from Boston. "I thought you were from Chicago," I asked curiously, dimly aware it was probably a bad idea, especially when Rose was pulling so hard on my arm Carlisle might have to put a cast on it before he can find out what my "female problems" are. It better not be pink, or I will go on the worst murderous rampage Washington has ever seen.

Wait, can you be charged with murder for killing technically dead vampires? I'll have to look into that.

"He is," Emmett said, perched on the back of the couch, his feet on the cushions, as he played some version of Halo. Whether he was playing to win or loose, he was doing fairly well by the way the TV kept shouting kill-statistics. I briefly wondered if playing these bloody games ever made him hungry, "but the White Sox game was cancelled do to rain."

Jasper, who was infected with both his brothers' emotions and my growing anger as I realized what was going on, was half-glowering, half-laughing at the computer. "Shut up!" he yelled, and for a moment I thought I'd a second Hale ally, "I'm trying to write a paper on the Red Scare over here."

"I," I said tightly, trying to break away from Rose, "am going to send you monkey-slapping cocksuckers back to your mouldering graves!" I swore.

"Very nice, puppy," Rose said, trying to take me upstairs were, presumably, Carlisle was already waiting to poke me with cold instruments, "but unless you want Emmett as your vet-"

"Hell, no!" I shouted, knowing full well she'd do it to, letting her take me away, while the ten-toed wonder gaped at his wife and said, "Now, babe, you know how I feel about bestiality." To which my response was as I ran up the stairs, going from one emotional extreme in the batting of an eye, "Go lick an octopus."

The moment we reached the "doctor's office," I started worrying again. 'Cause I had to be dying, you know, because that honestly was the only possibility why, after years without one, I suddenly had my period. Or something that seemed like my period. Because, honestly, I'd gotten quite used to the idea of being a menopausal freak of nature. I don't know if I could handle this again. Worrying about things like getting pregnant, which I most assuredly didn't want, especially when Jake was still in school, even if he had converted to Team Billy. By which I mean, suddenly had this idea that anyone raising children at a rock, let alone me, would be this grand idea. And other things like how we can scarcely afford gas, how'll we afford condoms?

Okay, I know I said I'd given up on worrying, but what the fuck else do you do when you start bleeding internally? Even if – no, especially if its a natural human process? 'Cause, God-dammit, I'm a werewolf, not a normal person. I'm not supposed to have normal human processes.

Oh my god. What if it's not a period? What if Jake was right and I'd a dusty egg lying around and this is a miscarriage? That would so totally suck, even if I never did want children...

I've got to stop thinking like this. No eggs, no periods, no possibility of cub conception. Just internal bleeding caused by too much sarcasm and the cyanide Esme's been lacing our food with. 'Cause wolves don't have periods, they have this oestrous thing during which mating pairs apparently smell like sex to each other, and-

Oh my god. Oh my fucking monkey god, I've got to stop panicking. Dr. Dracula hasn't even said anything yet, and I'm already freaking out. Must stop this. Just think about how badly the boys will tease you when they hear about what a girl I'm being. Must think about ways to torture bloodsuckers instead. Sparkly objects held out of reach, bad zombie movies, Sailor Moon and High School Musical, a bloody towel left in their kitchen, a kitten left in their kitchen...

"Well, this is interesting."

"No its not," I insisted. I refused outright to let anything that might happen why my body be interesting. I've seen House. I know what it means. At least Chase had a cool Aussie accent. I think my life might be complete if Jake had an Aussie accent... Must think with brain, not bleeding parts. Must concentrate...

"I'll have to do some tests to be certain, but I believe, Miss Clearwater, congratulations are in order." Congratulations? I don't want any freaking congratulations. You don't congratulate people when they're dying of cyanide poisoning. Unless he's congratulating me for being the first werewolf to die of it? Please, please, please, let him just be very much shocked that it worked to kill me. Tell me that he was expecting to have to resort to plutonium, or something. They probably have their own nuclear reactor somewhere in the basement too, just for this. "It seems you've returned to the world of the fertile."

"What!" I screeched, hopefully loud enough to damage his bat ears, not believing what I was hearing. This can't be fucking possible. I want another doctor! Get me Frankenstein, Soong, or Rappaccini. Hell, get me a drunk off the street – because Carlisle can't possibly be right. Obviously, years of sniffing all sorts of medical chemicals have damaged his oxygen-deprived mind.

Rose, thinking I was an idiot – and I suppose I was doing a fairly good impression of one at the time – "He means-"

"I know what he fucking means. I'm just saying its impossible."

"You are a werewolf talking to a vampire doctor," said Rose, calmly examining her nails. "I think the level of impossible things in this room can deal with the slight fact that you're getting your monthlies again."

"No, it freaking can't. Because that means your half-priest husband is right, and if that happens, the world might implode on itself. I mean literally." I did a vague hand motion that was supposed to illustrate this, but failed entirely. Stupid hands. Stupid werewolf genes. Stupid Alpha. "I think I have to go kill something now."

"There're some spiders in the basement we've been meaning to get rid of-"

"Shut up, Rosalie, and go give your husband a hand-job."

She shook her head. "It's no use. He never pays attention to me when he's playing Halo."

Carlisle looked like this was just, even after spending the better part of a century raising eternal teenagers, just too much information. I thought it was too much information, and this was me. I'd mind-blowing sex yesterday against a tree right along the trail to the rock. I mean, really people.. "At this point," he said, "I think I will go to work."

"But what about Leah's tests?"

"I think we can do them at a time when she feels more disposed towards sitting still."

He was right. I'd been pacing the room ever since I'd entered it, franticly trying not to phase in the middle of Vampville. "Stick-fucking, ass-jumping, squirrel-chasing, ant-humping mother-fucker!" I muttered to myself, growing more loud as Carlisle left the room and his generally calming presence went with him. "I am going to kill Jacob Black."

Now sitting on the little medical bed-thingy that doctor's have in their rooms – not gurneys, but the other kind, the one that usually has stirrups attached to it at OB-GYN's – Rose looked at me curiously, with a touch of sadness in her eyes. I knew her well enough to know by now that, had our positions been reversed, she'd be downstairs doing her husband, Halo or no. "Why?"

"Because it's so obviously his tail-chasing fault!"

"You may not be surprised to hear it, Scooby-Dudette, but I'm not following your strange wolf-logic."

I say it as I think it, all sense further thought might insert into my words not to be found, "Turned wolf, no periods. But Sam was Alpha, but not the proper Alpha. Then Jake broke off. Became proper Alpha. Wolves mate in winter. Hormones start changing in fall. This first fall since Jake became Alpha. Thus, periods."

She blinked very artificially at me for a long time. And then, "You know, it kinda freaks me out, but I think I followed that."

"I'm going to kill that mother-fucking tit-squeezer with his own axe, singing Disney songs, and hide the pieces of him in the boys' locker room."

"He has an axe?"

I ignored the Blonde Bimbo and started for the door. "I'm going to have to steal one of your cars though... and maybe a chainsaw..."

"You might want to get actual clothes first, though, and maybe some underwear before going on a murdering streak at the high school."

"I-" I looked down at my dress and saw that, indeed, spots of blood were starting to show on it. "Stupid, cock-sucking, scrotum-licking, ass-fancying bag-raper!" I shouted even louder now, so it echoed down the hallway and down into the living room, where the boys were surely laughing even more heavily over it. "This was my favourite too." I gave an exasperated sigh, imagining that prisoners going to their executions sounded happier then I did at the moment. "Point me in the direction of the clothes, gaoler."

Rosalie restrained herself to clapping enthusiastically, and led me to her vamp-sister and my possible doom. At least this day couldn't get any fucking worse...

And if it did, I was going to take that axe and go after the bitch Fate herself and give her what was coming to her, starting with a long drop into a pot of burning oil and ending with her joining Jake in the boys' locker room walks, listening to a CD of Zack Efron's greatest hits for the rest of eternity. Just see if I'm kidding. I mean just fucking try me.

I thought not.


	6. Foxtrot

"Perhaps you were expecting some surprise, for me to reveal a secret that had eluded you,  
something that would change your perspective of events, shatter you to your core.  
There is no great revelation, no great secret. There is only you."

Kreia from Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic II: The Sith Lords

* * *

I was calmly sitting in the kitchen when the boys returned from school. This seemed to surprise everyone, not the least Jacob, but had a very good explanation. Well, possibly a couple. One: it was nice to be in real cloths again, even if "feminine hygiene products" made it somewhat less so; I read somewhere that all this uterine hassle has to do with evolution and walking upright and all that mess. I'm very curious to see what a scientist would say about my own predicament, but not enough so that I might actually want to be Dr. Horrible's lab rat. Or lab wolf. Whatever. Two: the vampires had drugged me. They told me it was Midol, but we all know what it really was. Haldol. Sweet merciful Zeus, I loved Haldol. Or Valium. Or maybe Vicadin. I certainly had the rude, misanthropic, perfect-insult-ever-time thing down pat. Maybe they were hoping to make me and addict so I'd be forced to let them study me. Or maybe they just wanted me to shut up. Who knows? They're vampires. They're not like us. Three: the miracle of chocolate.

So let me more specific, when the boys returned from school, I was sitting at the kitchen table, Jacob's birthday cake (one Esme had made) in front of me. The leeches had dolled me up all morning, much against my will at first, and then I'd given in because it was odd to look into the mirror and see a girl for once. Wearing tight jeans and a semi-sheer top. You know how long its been since I wore a pair of jeans? About as long as it's been since I had my last period. Ditto that for the bra necessarily required by the wearing of see-through tops with cool, bell-like sleeves. My hair was clean and leaf-free. I was actually even wearing make-up. Anyway, two unlit wax candles – "1" and "8" – balanced precariously at the end of the cake farthest from me, while, with a fork in one hand and a tub of Ben and Jerry's in the other, I was working my way through one side. I'd been going at it through a whole pint of Cherry Garcia and was starting in on Karamel Sutra – which roughly translated as saying a quarter of the cake was gone. The green icing letters now read Happy Birth Jaco, which I'm fairly certain was some sort of insult in one of the Indonesian languages.

"We tried to stop her," Alice said, arranging cans of Silly String on the counter. Why Silly String, I don't know, but she was arranging it. There were even the rich-peoples' version of streamers, but I don't know what you might call them. I'm just glad she didn't go with a race car theme. According to Rose, that had been an idea at some point. Which is why people who can't remember being human shouldn't plan parties.

Emmett, who must have gotten into that "Must not tell lies" part of Seminary, corrected. "No we didn't." His wife smacked him outside the head. I took another bite of cake. Devil's Food Cake bottom, chocolate icing middle, some other kind of chocolate cake on top, and more chocolate. It was like quadruple chocolate cake. I mean, come on! How do you expect a hormonal werewolf girl to say no to quadruple chocolate cake? "She threatened Alice's closet."

Scooping out some more of the ice cream, I told Jake solemnly as he leaned over my shoulder to examine the remains of his cake. "I did," I lifted the fork to his mouth, allowing him to taste some of the ice cream before I managed to inhale it all. "It's Karamel Sutra. It is so amazing, I'm almost certain I'm going to imprint on it."

"Nice to see you're feeling better," Jake said, rolling his eyes at my comment. For a moment he fought to take the carton of ice cream from me, but Ben and Jerry were my two new best friends, and I wasn't giving them up, especially not to Jake, who was the one who pushed me into their waiting arms in the first place. Stupid Alpha. Remind me to axe-murder him later.

Anyway, once he realized he couldn't take the ice cream from me, he did the next best thing, which was lift me up and, sliding onto the chair underneath me (pause a moment to think on the amazing things werewolf genes can do. Today's study topic: muscles. Drool. And continue) before settling me on his lap.

Quil, sliding into a chair opposite, groaned, "This is just disgusting."

Okay. Have I ever mentioned how the better part of werewolf supersmell, like superhearing, caries over to when we're human? I mean, yes, I could smell the dead blood leaking from me too, but it was nowhere near as bad as when I'd been wolf, and I was the one so totally stuck with the dishonourable discharge from the uterine navy, but did you see me going on about how freaking awful it was? How it would go on for possibly days and I was stuck as human cause there was no way in Bob Villa's home-ec hell I was going to phase while I was still dealing with the massacre at the Y, 'cause sure as "feminine hygiene products" are unpleasant as a human, I am almost certain they'd be worse as wolf, and wasn't willing to test that idea. Either that, or the boys would have to find a new rock to sleep at while the painters were in at ours... and then I'd have to find a way to clean up after myself... No. I was fully prepared to taunt him instead with how, one day, Claire would, in fact, grow up (however unfortunate that was for him and his Barbie fetish) and experience similar visits from Mary, Bloody Mary, but Seth got to him first.

"Just 'cause you can't spent every waking moment with Claire, it doesn't mean you should begrudge Leah and Jake their happiness." God I love my brother. And since when did they start teaching words like "begrudge" at the Rez school? I must have been asleep during that class... But I will not get angry. I took another bite of cake. Anger is bad for the blood-pressure and makes these things worse... and I loved Esme right now. I'm so going to have to work on being nicer to her if she's going to keep baking cakes like this.

"I thought you said we were 'disgusting,'" Jake commented through a mouthful of cake stolen from me during my moment of anger, "and to stop looking at your sister 'that way'. Are there any forks around here, or are the rest of us expected to eat with our hands?"

"Only when you're in wolf form! It's just creepy seeing you to bat eyes at each other, or whatever you want to call it, when your wolves!"

I ignored him, though admitted to myself he might have had a point, and pointed with my fork at Alice, who looked to be fuming. "I think we're ruining Ali-heimer's idea of a perfect wolfy birthday party. I mean, we've not even sung 'Happy Birthday' or opened presents yet, and we've already started arguing."

Emmett waved it off. "Ali has a thing about birthday parties," and, amazingly, he moved from his perch by the window (I think he was admiring his own sparkle) and got the boys forks himself. He handed one each to Quil and Jake, who started fighting with me over the cake, and then gestured wildly with the remainder at Seth, whom he seemed to delight in teasing with the eating utensil. "Now, pup," he said, Seth's eyes following the fork madly, making me nearly choke on my beauteous ice cream. Luckily, Rosalie seemed to decide it was time to break out more. I really do think these vamps get too much fun from watching us eat. I mean, really, it's all they ever seem to do around us, either this or challenge us to The Game of Life. But it was Chocolate Therapy ice cream, and Super Fudge Chunk and Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough. They could have ate in front of us and I'd have been happy at the moment.

No, wait, I take that back. I'd probably have thrown up if they tried that. I mean, yuck!

Emmett continued, and it grew harder and harder to ignore him. "You can always tell when an the Alpha pair are about to mate in a wolf pack, because of the way they bond." Gesturing in my and Jake's direction, "Notice, they start touching each other and behave in a 'flirty' manner. They might also touch each other while walking, mutually groom, or mouth each other's muzzles..."

"You're embarrassing the hormonal shape-shifter, dear."

We didn't need you to tell us that, Rapunzel. Just look at my face: it's Bella-red. It's a freaking wonder I've enough blood left to blush too.

"When mating season begins, you'll note too that the male will start to sniff the female's genital-" and at this point I lost it (wouldn't anyone if Emmett started talking about your boyfriend putting his nose into your groin in front of your little brother?) and, taking my half-empty carton of Karamel Sutra, I threw it at Emmett. Once I realized what I had done – it was some point around the time it splattered upon the Dead Vet and my brother – I felt a keen and all-encompassing sorrow overtake me for the loss of my imprint-worthy frozen dairy product.

"I killed it," I managed, voice tight, leaning my head back on Jake's shoulder. I was actually trying not to cry, I was that upset. Over ice cream.

He took the hand that was circled about my waste and patted me awkwardly on the back. "There, there," he said, not quite sure what the proper thing to say was. Hell if I knew. Period hormones plus werewolf hormones seemed to be equalling "hand over the tranquillizers" at the moment. Then, seeming to hit upon something, he fed me a forkful of cake.

"Wow," was all Quil could say. Wisely, 'cause if he'd said more I would have beat him. Or drowned him in tears. One or the other.

Emmett, however, was looking down at himself, drenched in, "a core of soft caramel encircled by chocolate and caramel ice creams and fudge chips," and, curiously, dipped his forefinger into one of the larger blobs before sticking it in his mouth. I watched curiously, as did my packmates; Alice and Rose wrinkled their noses. "Personally," he said, sticking out his tongue, "I don't see the attraction."

Almost lazily, "Oh, go fuck yourself, you clown-fearing, pudding-popping meat-bag. Now somebody pass me the Chocolate Therapy before people start getting hurt."


	7. Golf

"Of course, you always had that detached quality as if you were playing a game  
without much concern over whether you won or lost, and not that you've lost the game,  
not lost but just quit playing, you have that rare sort of charm that usually only happens in  
very old or hopelessly sick people, the charm of the defeated. – You look so cool, so cool, so enviably cool."

Maggie in Tennessee William's Cat on a Hot Tin Roof

* * *

December was an altogether better month. Well, not really, what with the immanence of the Denali vampires (minus Irina, whoever the hell she was, because it seemed her mate was the one the pack tore to pieces right before I started phasing; the boys get all the fun, I tell you), and the potential of snow (which could fall anywhere from December through early March in sprinkle-like flutters or six-feet-over-nighters. Snow, when you're living outside, can be quite problematic, even for a werewolf.

Now, don't get me wrong, the leeches did, for Jake's birthday, built us a nice little two-sides-and-a-roof lean-to thing right next to the rock with like weatherproof curtains and stuff we can pull around the other two sides when it rains really hard and use as dividers so Jake and I don't have to worry about my brother or his friends walking in on us, or can still sleep in the old little rock/den area on good-weather days, but snow is still snow. Even if our body temps are high enough to keep us from ever getting frostbite. I mean, no one was more surprised then me that Jazz-Purr the Overgrown Kitten and Physical Education were really out building the lean-to thing while I was freaking out at the manor, rather then avoiding me and my emotional whiplash, but I do wish it had electricity. Or cable. It does have a cistern and a fire pit so we can do marshmallows or a cook-out and stuff along those lines, but all that has succeeded in doing in highlighting how toast is just about beyond my abilities, whereas Seth can whip up a mean BBQ out of little more than thin air. There's also no freezer for my Karamel Sutra addiction, but that's okay. We've not gotten along well since I tossed up the better part of on Jake's birthday, proving that there such a thing as too much sugar for a werewolf. Literally. They had to give me an IV of saline and everything. I think it included some Versed too, 'cause it knocked me right out, but that could have just been me coming off the sugar high the ice cream, cake, and highly caffeinated beverages had given me.

But where was I? December? Check. Snow? Yea... Oh yes.

Today I the last day of the semester for Jake (and the others, but who cares about them?), and so I get my smokin' hot, hundred percent true Alpha, who is totally amazing for putting up with me as much as he does. If he ever heard me say any of that, he'd probably start blushing and laughing, and maybe even say something about how I'm a decent person and 'putting up' with me isn't as hard as it sounds, but I know that's a lie, so I don't say such things to him. Which is why he teases me about the "love triangle" I have going on with Ben and Jerry, and why I mock him for liking me so much, and why we patrol a lot and have sex a lot more. We avoid difficult, deep subjects entirely, and we get along. That's how it works. The only time imprinting is ever mentioned is in connection with my cruel love-affair with Karamel Sutra, and the only time we talk about kids or the future or maybe even – just maybe – getting married or something is when we're alone in wolf form, walking next to each other in that way that I can't help but think of as National Geographic's special on werewolf courtship after Emmett's veterinary spiel... That was only as a joke, coming how, after Emmett finished laying wire to the rock/den/lean-to (from his electrical engineering degree), he could paint it (from his time as an art major), and instruct us on keeping kosher as wolves (as he'd also been a Hebrew major), he could marry us in an Anglican ceremony.

I should have been happy that I'd have Jake (mostly) to myself for the next sixteen days and sixteen hours – starting from the moment he and the others got off of school. But was I? No. Because I'd had to spend all morning helping the leeches clean for their guests, who'd be here within the hour according to The Magic Eight Ball. Why? Who knows, their house was already cleaner then some space stations, but I was on my period – again – and couldn't go wolf and run away, so I had to help.

Of course, The Magic Eight Ball had also said that it wouldn't be raining too hard in Port Angeles. I was to take the Yeti's half-human spawn to a park in the city – driving their missile-proof, half-a-million dollar car – and let her play in the park while they explained the situation to Tanya, Kate, and the others. Me, because they didn't want any werewolves around tangling the issue while they explained things. The park, because that was apparently what you did with children that looked about two-years-old, even if they'd spent the ride up complaining about my driving and Ayn Rand's portrayal of money in Atlas Shrugged (she felt, apparently, that she'd created a religion out of it, undermining the whole work, or something like that).

Of course, though, after that unbelievable pain, what was it but snowing in Port Angeles? And not just light, little snowflakes that a babysitter might let her tiny, Late-Show-watching charge play in, but all out flurries. So what, might you ask, was I doing instead that was causing me to reminisce about how much I hated vampires, how much I hated snow, and how much I really, really wished there was a Ben and Jerry's in Port Angeles?

I was sitting in a Chuck E. Cheese, watching Nessie the Half-Dead Spawn play in the ball pit.

The universe hates me, mocks me at every turn, and is trying to get me to commit suicide. Because, honestly, after all this screaming and screeching and the guy in the mouse costume trying to hit on me, I honestly think I might.

"Get the methane-burning fuck out of my face, you overgrown excuse for a rodent, or I'll put your tail so far up your ass you'll loose an eye to it."

"What the hell, lady?" said the kid, who couldn't even have been Seth's age. I could see a hint of his acned face through the mouth of the mouse. "I was just bringing you your drinks."

"Oh. Well never mind then." I stared at my coke and Nessie's chocolate milk, then looked back at him. "You have anything stronger?"

"We have Budweiser-"

"Cool. I'll take a six-pack of that, three large pepperoni and sausage, a medium super combo, and the largest thing of buffalo wings you have."

"Your kid having a birthday party or somethin', ma'am?"

"God, do I look old enough to have a kid?" I dropped the coke, spilling it carelessly on the floor and Chuck's feet, and put my hands to my hair. Alice had done it and dolled me up again before she'd let me take her niece anywhere. It was all clean and pulled back and non-fuzzy. "It's the hair, isn't it? I have mom hair..." I stopped patting my hair and started patting my way down my shirt, which was one of those button-down ones a guy might wear over a tank top, and looked down at my shoes. They were sensible and flat-heeled and weren't covered in mud. "Or the shoes..." I was going to have an Alice-bonfire when I got back to the Manor...

The mouse-man backed away, muttering, "I think I'll go get your order now," just as Nessie came running up to me, looking very kid-like with her arms spread out high and shouting, "Mom-ma!"

I glared at her but picked up up anyway, 'cause she was kinda cute. Just a little. "That was not funny, monster child."

"Yes it was."

"No, it wasn't," I insisted, not believing I was having this conversation with a child who, theoretically, should have still been in the womb.

"I didn't want you to attack the man-in-the-mouse. Then we would have had to leave, and I am very hungry, and haven't won any tickets yet."

I glared at the child of idiots. Of course she would have to be the one with the brain. "Fine. Whatever. It's all on your daddy's credit card anyway." I doubted I could manage to eat them out of house and home by myself, but a girl could try.

Nessie went very silent then, and started acting very toddler like, wiggling in her booster seat and, well, not talking. I looked over my shoulder: the waiter had returned with my beers and the wings. "Here you are ma'am," he said cautiously.

"Thanks, Chuck."

"The name's Eddie, ma'am," he said, bending down to mop up the spilled coke.

Well that was just too damn funny. "You're dressed as a mouse, and I've already got a boyfriend. I'm calling you Chuck."

Nessie giggled. The boy, from what I could tell from under the mouse-head, blushed. I popped the top off one the beers and took a long swig of it. God, this day was going to kill me. If it did, I was sooo coming back to haunt the vampires' asses. Just watch me. At least The Thing wasn't so bad; a bit annoying, maybe, but at least she was part-human. If Charlie and Mom ever got together, she wouldn't be a bad step-niece. Not a good one, either, but still.

As the mouse stalked off, I pulled out the phone the vampires had tossed me – typically, and iPhone. I swear they didn't own anything they had to pay less then two hundred dollars for – and checked the time. We'd still forty-five minutes before we could even think about heading back.

After the pizza's arrived and I was on my third beer (thank God for werewolf metabolism; even now I was feeling only the slightest bit buzzed), Nessie asked me very quietly, almost embarrassedly, "Are you going to be a mommy, Aunt Leah?"

I bit down on the mouth of the bottle in surprise, and felt the glass cut my mouth. Gagging as I removed the shards and towelled off my tank, I asked finally, "Who the hel... met," I caught myself just in time, "gave you that idea, Ness?"

"I was talking to Mommy," she said, picking at her crusts. "I wanted to know why you smelled hurt today, and she said it was so you could have babies."

Please O please O please God, don't make me have to give "The Talk" to the half-vampire in the middle of Chuck E. Cheese. I knew the universe hated me, but this was a bit much, even for it. "More or less," I said, admittedly faintly. I could already feel, as I was biting my lip to keep from saying anything that might loose me chocolate privileges with the vampires, that the cuts the glass had made were already healed.

"Grandma Esme and Aunt Rose told me all about it," she said, finding her voice and another slice, "and I was wondering, Mommy and Daddy had me when Mommy was still human, and they said that's what married people do, have babies. So I wanted to know if you and Uncle Jake were going to have babies."

I managed a small laugh, "Jake and I aren't married, honey," I said, suddenly feeling well enough to pull the last pizza towards me. It was just an annoying thing kids asked. It wasn't Billy sending the kid questions to ask me in exchange for blood from the local Red Cross. I mean, that would just be ridiculous... But this was Billy I was, er, thinking about.

Nessie shook her head though, little brown curls bouncing against her head. "I know that," she even giggled. It made her seem very human and very young. I blinked at the thought of discussing my love life with a three-month-old, but, then again, I'd never thought I'd hear her opinion on Ayn Rand either. She held out her hand, and I touched it somewhat wearily, and her memories flowed into me, showing me exactly what she meant – scenes of me and Jake together, laughing, in their living room; or us as we were on their porch, or coming out of the woods; and, once or twice, us as wolves, bumping into each other as we walked, occasionally resting our heads on the other's shoulder. "I've seen you together," she said, taking her hand away. "You act like Aunt Alice and Uncle Jazzy, or Aunt Rose and Uncle Emmett, or Mommy and Daddy when they think nobody's looking. They say you're going to get married before Uncle Jake is out of school."

My teeth clenched again. "Do they now?" I'd been too soon to rule out Billy. Must go the the Rez and sabotage his wheelchair. Jake'll thank me later.

"Yes," said The Thing, looking confused. "Aunt Rose says you're getting married on Valentine's Day, and Uncle Jazzy says in March, while Aunt Alice says it's going to be a May wedding and I'll get to be flower girl."

I could only repeat myself. "Do they?"

"Yes," she nodded smartly. "What's a flower girl?"

"It's a half-human hybrid, like you."

"I do not believe you, Aunt Leah."

The iPhone started ringing then, and I was so thrilled to end this conversation that I almost kissed it – but only almost. Because the ringtone was one I recognized very vaguely, and was currently James Hetfield belting out:

Nose to the wind

(Shape shift) Feeling I have been

(Move swift) All senses clean

(Earth's gift) Back to the meaning,

Back to the meaning of wolf and man

I pressed the "talk" button and said, "Very funny leech. Abso-freaking-luetly hilarious. Remind me to send the video of me kicking your ass into the next century to America's Funniest Home Videos."

"Well I thought you'd like it," Alice informed me with a huff.

"You also thought that I liked you too much to kill you, but, amazingly, I don't think that's the case."

"Ah, mutt, I knew you loved me."

I groaned into the phone, bashed it a few times on the table, and handed it to Nessie.

"Hi Aunt Alice. Does this mean that I can come home?"

Even from across the table, I could hear the midget respond, "Yes. Kate especially wants to meet you."

"Woop-te-do for the clown," I muttered, and signalled the mouse to our table.

"Tell Mommy and Daddy we'll be home soon," Nessie continued. Then, quickly, before the mouse got to us. "I thought the ringtone was funny," and punched the "end" button.

"Chuck, I'll take five more of these Supreme Combos, to go, and-"

"Five?"

I thought about it. Five werewolves and a half-vampire in a house full of strange vampires, and us having to hang about to make sure nobody tried to kill the Cabbage Patch kid here. "Make that ten larges, four large pepperoni, and all the buffalo wings you have ready."

"To go?" Chuck choked.

"Yeah."

I smiled when he brought me the bill. I left a 25% tip too. And my phone number.

Okay, not really. It was Billy's, but a girl can have some fun can't she? And, besides, Rachel might find the guy inside the Chuck E. Cheese costume a better date then Paul.

Gathering our pizza, I led The Spawn out to the car and our very probable doom.


	8. Hotel

"No matter how exotic human civilization becomes, no matter the developments of  
life and society nor the complexity of the machine/human interface, there always come  
interludes of lonely power when the course of humankind depends upon the  
relatively simple actions of single individuals."

Frank Herbert Dune Messiah

* * *

"For the last time: no car-seat driving! Comprende?" I tried to keep from shouting as I turned onto the bloodsucker's drive.

"But Aunt Leah, you're supposed to slow down before you make a turn, and use your turn signal."

I gave a small growl. She was completely unphased, and gave me a toothy smile in return. "Nessie, if you're ever going to successfully pass for human, you're going to have to learn to not give a shi-shiitake mushroom about every little thing."

"It is okay, Aunt Leah. You can curse in front of me."

"I-"

"I have very good hearing. I have heard you say many words to the wolves and several of them have been quite unkind. But Uncle Emmett says you use them as 'terms of endearment,' and so it is okay."

Quickly, I tried to change the subject. "Why do you call me aunt?"

"Because I like you," she said as I parked next to a pair of ice white Jeep Wranglers – the Unlimited edition kind, with all the extra features, including chains on the wheels. Yes, I spent a lot of time around Jake, who spent a lot of time around Rose's car magazines – which could only be the Denali coven's. "And Aunt Alice says Grandpa Charlie will marry your mommy, which will make you and Uncle Seth Mommy's brother and sister."

I restrained a shudder of disgust (who would want to be let's-see-if-we-can-make-a-Frankenstein-in-my-uterus) and jumped out into the snow. It was knee-high here and melted where I stood, but I still didn't want to subject Nessie too it – she is, after all, my favourite Cullen, after Esme, who cooks, and Carlisle, who gives me meds – so I lift her up into my arms and head into the house, while she tells me all she knows about her "cousins." This is mostly limited to the fact that Tanya, the oldest, is just over twelve hundred years old, and was originally from what would become Gniezno, Poland. The youngest in the "family" was almost as old as Carlisle, and had served in the household of Mariana of Austria, Queen Regent of Spain, until her mate Eleazaar came across her when she was nineteen and turned her. What a love story.

Before I am even on the porch, I can sense them inside – the Cullens, plus the four new ones. I do not know how, but it must be must be by smell. The Cullens are very flowery – freesia and rosemary and lavender – and spun sugar. These new ones have that same overwhelming scent of flowers, but are also sharper, colder... like frozen caramel, or some other sort of cold sugary thing. Was it because they lived up north, or a personal reflection on their dispositions? I don't know. Only that that's what it was like, as they certainly weren't breathing or fidgeting or anything normal, decent people would do. It is girly, but I held Nessie close to me as I pass through the door.

All twelve of them are gathered around the living room. Carlisle is standing, arm around Esme, near the windows. Alice is seated next to Rose on one of the couches, the midget wearing her favourite shade of grey-blue, the latter in red so bold she must have soaked it in the blood of her victims; she might even snack on it when she's hungry. Emmett is on the arm of the couch, while Jasper is seated on the glass coffee table, looking ready to spring into action if needed. For once, I am glad of his worry-wort behaviour, as I really would not like to see The Thing murdered, especially today – I just have too bad of cramps to do much about it. Edward and Bella are sitting together, hands clasped, opposite the Denalis.

They are a strange group, the Denalis. One, who I know from Nessie's mind-sharing to be Tanya, has long, curly strawberry-blonde hair that I would have killed for if I thought I could pull the look off. She, like the others, are standing very close to the door. There is a Spanish-looking couple with olive-tinted skin and pin-straight black hair of differing lengths – Carmen and Eleazaar. The last, who cannot be much older then Edward – in human years, I mean – if not Seth, is dark-haired and death-pale.

They spin when they hear the door opening, or maybe when they catch my musky, earthy scent. Or maybe just in fearful anticipation of the child I hold, who couldn't anyone but a lit professor's ego. A sharp hiss comes from one of their clenched lips, while the Spanish couple and the red-head fall into their own versions of West Side Story-crouches.

Instinctively, I bare my teeth and hunch down a bit, pressing Nessie closer to me then perhaps necessary. A growl escapes my lips, and I'm ready to phase if necessary – she's only a child, for fuck's sake – but, before anything more can happen, the young black-haired girl stepped forward and spoke, "Uciszają siebie, Tanyen'ka. One powiadali amerykański wilkołak byłby jest przynoszący dzieckcko,"to the red-head, and then to me, "Forgive my family, young one. They are not over-fond of vourdalak, though we were warned of your pack's presence. It is an instinctual thing. I am Ekaterina Dobryniniva, but everyone calls me Kate. That," she jerked her finger towards the strawberry-blonde, "is Tanya, our leader. Those two," now pointing at the Spanish couple, were were both now standing up, somewhat abashedly I might add, "are Carmen and Eleazaar."

She paused, seemingly waiting for something. After a moment, I realized what it was. "I'm Leah. Leah Clearwater, the Beta of our pack." I, slowly, released Nessie – but not before she'd a chance to send me an, "Overreact much?" at me through her thoughts – "This is Nessie."

"Renesmee," the icicle-loving whore corrected automatically.

"Whatever," I told them, heading back to the Mercedes to collect the pizza and buffalo wings. I set them on the table just inside the door and took a seat on the floor nearby, where I could see the Rabbit pull up when the guys got back. They were all busy oh-and-awing over Nessie anyway.

After about half-hour, Carlisle came over to me and asked how I was doing. "So fucking delightful my mouth hurts from all the grinning I've been doing," I snapped back. I really shouldn't've, but twelve vampires can make a girl edgy, even if she gets on with about half of them.

"Would you like a sedative?"

Yes, because pills solve everything, you sparkly moron. How many doctorates do you have again? "I'll be fine when the rest of the pack arrives," I told him, which was probably true. Strength in numbers and all that business. Plus sixteen days of Jake.

Eventually, I got Dr. Sparkles (which, by the way, doubles as his stripper name – Sparkles, that is, not the Dr. part) to go away, and remembered I still had the iPhone. Upon which I could download games, at the good doctor's expense. This wiled away a good forty-five minutes, and would have done more if Kate hadn't come over and sat down right next to me.

"Allo."

"Hey," I said, trying to figure out how you played mah-jong on such a small screen.

"I have never met a werewolf before," she told me, "especially not a she-wolf."

I gave up on the mah-jong. "Now you can say you have. Now nice for you." Scrabble it was then.

"You are a very odd person."

"So they tell me." I put down the word yodel, which has to be the greatest starting Scrabble word in history. Days of playing games (including this one) with vampires have sharpened my skill. I can now go on the road and become a Scrabble champion. The pay's probably better then being a vampire's watchdog.

"You have not moved at all since you sat down."

"Yes I have," I told her, glaring at the tiny screen. Barber. The AI put down barber. What was I supposed to do with that? "It's called breathing. You may not be familiar with it, but-"

"You are either rude because you are uncivilized," she went on as I tried to ignore her and think of a word I could make out of the letters b, l, i, e, c, x, and a. Axe? No, the e was already taken... Cabby? Not enough b's. Rebel, off the r? No, that needed another e... "But I doubt that, as you were willing to protect Edward's daughter, even when out-numbered, when she is not of your own species."

Calmly, I explained. "My maternal instincts are on the fritz." She could probably smell them. Stupid period. Stupid vampires. Stupid Christmas.

"I think you do it to put people off."

"How intuitive of you. You shift around in people's minds like the mind-raper?" If you do, I will murder you with my thoughts. Behold the wonder of Spice Girls songs! So, tell me what you want-

Laughing, "No. My gift isn't like that." Thank God, I've already tortured myself too much. Asking me to think of annoying song lyrics might just kill me. Heart attack. Keel over. Die. And then I'd have missed out on all the wonderful Christmas-break time I'd planned with Jake, and it'd be all the vampire's fault. Again. Stupid vampires. "And you can make clixby."

"What?"

"Clixby, off the y. C, l, i, x, b, and then the y from yodel."

"Is that even a word?"

"Yes. It means to be politely rude, briskly vague, or firmly uninformative."

Dryly, "Really?"

"Oh yes. It's also a city in Lincolnshire."

I looked at the time. Jake had to be getting home soon. "Do you spend your time reading maps or something, or...?"

"No. It's from a book... looks like the best you can spell now is case."

I slammed down the phone, amazed when it didn't break. "You wanna play?"

"No, it's just I know all of them." She gestured vaguely in the direction of the other bloodsuckers. "I don't know you. That makes you interesting."

"Again, my name is Leah. I'm twenty-one and a Gemini. My mom is currently dating Bella's," (I did a mocking gesture), "dad. I'm the Beta of my pack. I like Karamel Sutra ice cream and long walks on the beach."

"Nyet. Try this. For instance: I am Kate, I've been a vampire since I was seventeen. My father was the posadnik, or mayor, of Kiev. My aunt Malusha was Grand Prince Vladimir's mother. When Vladimir converted to Christianity, my father forced the citizens to convert, and several of the pagans burned our home. They killed my mother and two of my cousins. It almost killed me too – my family thought it had – but Sasha, my 'mother', and Tanya found me and turned me. I've been with Tanya ever since. Now you try."

"Having never died," I drawled, "I cannot tell you how I did so. But when I do, I'll be sure to find you."

"Tell me a werewolf story, and I'll get Carmen to tell you one of her stories about Carlos II." I cocked my eyebrow at this. "The insane King of Spain? So disfigured and disabled and inbred that it's frankly ridiculous? His mother was his father's niece, and her parents were first cousins, and nearly set of grandparents and great-grandparents he had were either uncle/niece or first or second cousins? Descended from Juana the Mad and Phillip the Handsome at least fourteen different ways? No? Nothing at all?"

"Disgusting, but no." I hate vampires, I sang in my mind... now what rhymes with vampire? I know: I hate leeches. They cannot go to beeches. They step into the sun, then the peasants have some fun... No, I lost it.

"Pity. What are they teaching you children these days?"

"Don't ask me. Ask them," I pointed out of the window as I jumped up, relieved to see the Rabbit finally pulling in. I was almost giddy with relief. "And, maybe later, I'll tell you the exciting tale of inter-pack politics."

Sadly enough, she did not seem to catch onto the sarcasm dripping from my voice. Or, if she did, she chose to ignore it.


	9. India

"Causing people to suffer because you hate them is terrible, but causing people to suffer  
because you have forgotten how to care... that's really hard to understand"

Julian Bashir in Star Trek: Deep Space Nine: "Past Tense, Part One"

* * *

"I was hit on by a sophomore in a mouse costume today," I told Jake as he and the others entered the Cullens – well, all but Embry, who sniffed the house once and went to run the borders. He really, really disliked vampires. "How was your day?"

"The home ec class made cookies and Seth's spice rack fell apart the moment Mr. Reed touched it." They got cookies? I had to deal with a mouse and he got cookies? That is just great. I mean, positively, absolutely, fucking great. I'm like three steps from re-enrolling in high school, just to get some time off from these mind-raping, future-seeing, emotion-feeling, random-factoid-sharing vampires. I think I could honestly handle the blood drinking if it wasn't for all that. And the constant playing of video games. And the fact they have enough cash to wallpaper the manor. And the fact they made me babysit The Thing, who apparently thought it amusing to ask if I was trying to get pregnant when she should still have been like four months from being born herself if her daddy hadn't had mutant sperm.

Ew, gross. Vampire sperm. That's gotta be like the nasty version of the free-dried ice cream NASA tells you the astronauts eat. I mean, how could she even have had him in her without getting frostbite-

Okay, now I'm freaking myself out. Vampires are disgusting. Werewolves are cool. Or hot, I guess I should say. End of story.

Protesting, "The glue wasn't dry!" my brother insisted, taking the space I'd vacated and picking up the iPhone. "Cool, scrabble." He was like a puppy, I swear. He couldn't stay mad at anything. A ball of string would have distracted him.

As we all looked at him like he was insane (which he was), Quil asked "Sue was really on something when she was pregnant with him, wasn't she?" shaking his head.

"I dunno. I'm beginning to fear it might be genetic." If it was, that was another excuse I had to give Billy why I didn't want kids.

"What?" he continued, finding the now-cold pizza and taking a box for himself. "Toxic Idiot Syndrome?"

I hit him over the head. It just happened. "That's my brother your talking about. I'm the only one allowed to call him an idiot." Wow. I wasn't expecting myself to say that. I've spent too much time around The Spawn and her mad-scientist parents. I couldn't start being nice to my brother – it was like Emmett being right: world implosion worthy. Cue Death Star sound effects, the ones from Return of the Jedi, not A New Hope.

I seriously need to get out more.

Rubbing his head as he sat down beside Seth, "God, you're a bitch today."

It was only Jake, arms around my waist, that kept me from going at him. I did not need any more stress today, not after the stupid vampires, not after the stupid goose-honking mouse, and especially not about this wonderful, National-Geographic-special-worthy werewolf-in-heat thing I was now being forced to deal with in addition to every other werewolf-created insanity in my life. "It's only Quil, Lee. He's not worth it."

"I feel so loved, man."

"You feel loved?" Seth insisted, not realizing he was sitting next to a genuinely amused vampire as he reached for a slice of pizza. "All I've heard for the past few months from Leah is Jake-this, Jake-that, fuck-you, whatever. After all the things I've done for her too."

I chose to ignore them and turn around. In truth, he was probably right – the kid usually was. He was like a fucking boy scout, and would so be an Eagle Scout by now if wolf business a) didn't get in the way of such things and b) counted towards a merit badge. Mr. Perfect I'd called him all of his 8th grade year. If I didn't like repeating myself, I'd have started calling him that again. So, forgetting all about Seth, I gave Jake a deep kiss, then continued nonchalantly, "So I gave the mouse your phone number."

"Was the pound out of cats or something, or-?"

"Well, technically, it's Billy's phone number, but I told the idiot I wasn't interested. Chuck E. Cheese has so gone down hill with the people they hire since we were kids."

"Snowing that bad in Port Angeles then?"

This is why I loved him: he caught on fast. No, "There was a mouse at the park?" or "What's Chuck E Cheese have to do with anything?" Just an, "Oh, it was snowing here, I guess it was worse in Port Angeles, where the leeches wanted her to take Nessie." Le sigh. "Unfortunately. And you know what the worst part was?" I told him anyway, "He asked me about my kid. I have mom hair or something. This werewolf thing just keeps on getting worse and worse you know."

"The Denali coven that bad?"

"Yeah." I looked over my shoulder at Kate, who was now telling Seth he could spell tailor, "Kate was telling me how her aunt was some king's whore-"

"Concubine," she corrected absent-mindedly, much the same way Cinder-Bella corrected her daughter's name every time we said Nessie. Wait? Didn't the Cullens say something about the Denali women being something like man-eaters? I must get her away from Seth...

"-and how 17th century Spanish kings were blubbering inbred idiots who wouldn't know their asses from a box of nails if you drew them a map, neon-lit the trail, and gave them a piece of string to hold. Personally, I think they sent some of their bastards to Forks, 'cause-"

"Carlos II couldn't have children. Which is a great boon to the gene pool of all mankind."

I rolled my eyes as if to say, "See what I have to put up with?" What I said out loud was, "Stay away from my brother, you toe-sucking, anal-raping excuse for an Eskimo whore, or I'll make you glad you've been out of the gene pool since Methuselah."

"Isaac, actually." The vampire stood up and offered a frozen hand to Jake. "The name's Kate. Tanya's the red-head and the other two are Carmen and Eleazaar. Don't be surprised if they don't talk to you. It's nothing personal. They don't like people who can rip them to pieces with their teeth." Wearily, Jake, a.k.a the hottest vampire on earth, shook it, quickly letting go.

"Well, what do you know Jake? Something the leeches and I can agree on after all." Seth and Quil looked up from the pizza, hearing this odd sentence when most their energies were upon food and scrabble, "I don't like people who can kill me either." It was true. I didn't like Sam, for instance. All the others were dead, so I guess I was ambivalent to them, but Sam I defiantly hated. He could spontaneously combust in front of me and I won't stop long enough to snap a picture for the National Inquirer.

Kate, while grinning widely, continued to stare at Jake without laughing. "Jake. Short for Jacob?" Jake nodded. "You are both aware, no, of the Genesis stories? Jacob was the son of Isaac, and Leah was his first wife." We both blinked at her. I think I saw Jake starting to blush from the corner of my eye. Well, now my day was complete – not the Jake blushing part, that was cute. It was adorable even. It made me want to do unspeakable things to him. No, I mean the vampires I hardly know making comments about Jake and me and marriage all in one sentence – and I could curl up and die in a heap somewhere like the conga-line in my fun places wanted me to. "Now, you must excuse me. As much as I would like to stay, I really must put in my bet with Jasper before the polls close." Polls for what, I didn't know, but I was sure I wasn't going to like it.

There were several moments before any of us spoke, the silence filled with annoyingly fast vampire chatter which, when they spoke high and fast enough like this, sounded rather like a dog whistle. I thought they were doing it on purpose. I really do. If I could find a way to get a fly buzzing in their ears all the time without them eating the bug, I would.

"Have I mentioned," I said at last, "how much I really, really hate vampires?"

"Not recently."

"No."

"We should start a club."

Of course, that meant we needed a name. "The Anti-Vampire Society?"

"The League of Legionnaires against Leeches?"

"I know, 'Beasts Against Bloodsuckers'."

"BAB?" Jake shook his head, "How about 'Beasts against Dracula'? Then we can be BAD and can wear cool buttons with our name on them without anyone thinking our names are Barbara or anything."

"You act like such a girl," I told him, "we should just start calling you Jacqueline and get it over with. Barbara is such a terrible name for an Alpha anyway – there's no ring to to it at all. I mean, who'd ever be scared of 'Barbara the Bad-ass?' when you could be 'Jacqueline the Jockey' or something like that?"

"Isn't your middle name Jacqueline, Leah?"

I brushed it off. "Mere coincidence."

"You know, if I tell Dad we're talking about names like this, he'll really start sending out wedding invitations."

"You just had to fight dirty, didn't you?" I glared at him. "See if you get any tonight."

"Good God! Little brother right here!" Seth grumbled at us. "I do not want to hear anything about any part of my sister or her doings that may permanently scar me for life."

"Too late kid. Just grab a box of band-aids and get over it, 'cause they're dead set on being as chick-flick girly as they can be."

"It's okay anyway. I was just planning on staying up late and watching the sunset with you and talking about our feelings anyway."

Pushing him away from me, "God! You are a girl." He has the best six-pack I've ever seen on a girl, but he is one. "You sure you don't need me to pick you up some training bras?"

"Nah, I just borrow yours."

"Won't you two shut up and make out already so we can have some peace and quiet?" Quil asked, exasperated, not seeing Seth glaring at him.

"Dude! What did I just say?"

"I dunno! I was too busy trying to ignore all you pussies and eat."

"Oh, go play with your child-bride."

"Lee-"

"You know it's not like that with me and Claire."

"Thank God it's not. I'd hate to be the one to give reporters that story – they'd probably break down my door looking for interviews." Not that we have a door... "And since we can't lock them out of the rock, we'll never be able to get any rest and then where will we be when we need to do our next West Side Story jazz number with the leeches?"

"We'd miss all our cues, that's what," Jake said, looking like one who suffers fools gladly. "Come on, let's sit outside so we don't permanently damage your brother."

"Damage him? Nessie asked me if I was going to 'be a mommy' today. I think I'm the one with issues here."

"Sure, sure, dear."


	10. Juliet

"There is no other hell for man than the stupidity and wickedness of his own kind."

Marquis de Sade Histoire de Juliette

* * *

It was Christmas Eve, and the snow was so heavy on the ground that, when Embry had relieved us from our patrol of the border (personally, I was a little freaked out that Sam was going to try to mount an assault because of the extra vampires at the manor, because he was just that stupid, and I was afraid one of the younger ones would get hurt. I knew, with the numbers definitely on the side of our pack, that someone would get hurt if that happened. I didn't care about Sam – he could rot in his own personal hell for all I cared – but the others I'd be kinda angry if something happened to) we had forgone the rock for the Cullen's front porch, and were currently curled up in a ball of werewolf and blankets. The blankets because Kate thought it'd be ha-freaking-larious to make us a doggy bed, and blankets were the best she could do at a impulse's notice.

So, there were were, trying to sleep – well, I was trying to sleep. Jake might just have been lolling, but my freaking out about the possibility of the Christmas episode of the Vampire-Lycan War had kind of translated into us kinda doing less patrolling and more of the stuff where, had any of the others phased, would probably have led to some very interesting comments about puppy farms I never in my life want to hear. Nevertheless, the end result was that I was tired, and Jake had a wolfy grin upon his face, and I would've too if it didn't take so many damn muscles to smile – and Kate was there. And was she letting me rest, or at least sitting down wind of us? No. She was talking, fully aware we couldn't answer her in this form, nor were willing to phase out at the moment to strangle her properly.

"...The War of the Roses was the most exciting time in England," she told us. "We were there from 1450 until 1533 – Tanya, Irina, and I. It was ever so much fun. All the war, all the intrigue – and all the kings, of course. Edward IV was especially handsome... Very tall. Very well built. Incredibly intelligent as well, but... It was Ira who got to him first, though. Tanya still hasn't forgiven her for that, and stole some very important generals out from under her in revenge. We were going by the name of 'Talbot' then – Theresa, Katherine and Elizabeth Talbot. Let's just say, when he started to get too interested in 'Elizabeth,' we had to make up the story of her dying in childbirth with Edward de Wigmore... Never expected that little incident to make it into the history books..."

Why is she here, annoying us, instead out out killing some hapless little bunny rabbit or something?

He gave a wolfish yawn and readjusted his head on my shoulders, Because you yelled at her yesterday for flirting with Seth-

Not that the idiot noticed, I huffed. I swear, he was too busy staring at how she sparkled to realize where she was trying to put her hands. I guess she'd never slept with a werewolf if she'd never met one before me, but I absolutely refused to let her make that sexual adventure with my little brother. I mean, first of all, Seth – ew, gross! I found the idea of Seth having sex more repulsive then what he thought about me with Jacob, and that was saying something. And, secondly, I didn't know which was worse, a vampire's frozen fun parts, or a vampiress's. Mental scaring... so deep... may loose motor function...

-and now, ignoring my little interlude, she's trying to annoy us to death. Remember, she was telling us about ye ol' Russia yesterday and the Swabian Dynasty of Holy Roman Emperors?

Honestly, No. I thought the inbred Hapsburg ruled Austria and stop listening after she started mentioning cousins getting married for the eighth time.

She's promised to go through to the time they were nearly run out of Beijing today.

Can we kill her?

I think the Cullens might mind.

We can tell them it was an accident. That she tried to do unspeakable things to Seth and I, er, overreacted.

Pausing, Believable, but...

...how would we explain why we burnt the body?

Yeah.

We spend entirely too much time in each other's heads.

There was an interruption on the edge of both of our minds: Embry. I can hear the two of you, y'know. It's driving me crazy.

Oh honey, I said with false sympathy dripping from my mind-tongue, you're already crazy. We're just taking you out for a walk 'round the block.

It could be worse, Jake sympathized not-falsely; it could be Tanya telling us about all the old guys she's banged. Whereas Kit-Kat seemed to find Seth her challenge, Tanya thought Embry to be hers (as, apparently, she'd given up on Edward. Why anyone would try for Ed-weird in the first place, I don't know, but I was of the opinion these two leeches and the third, far-off Irina, would have sex with a doorknob if desperate enough. Luckily, I suppose, they seemed sated enough at the moment). The one time Embry had shown himself to the vamps, and then only by virtue of patrolling an area they were passing through, Tanya decided to convert him over to the Dark Side. Anyway, the point of this all is that hearing all the people the person who's trying to get you to sleep with them has already slept with is somewhat disgusting. Even if they were kings or handsome farm boys or the Three Stooges or whoever.

Tatiana Ewaycz, I corrected facetiously.

You know that but don't remember anything of Kate's spiel on early democratic feeling in eastern European tribes?

I shrugged my shoulders. Hard not to remember a name like that. I plan on using it to make "fairy" references next time she asks me my preferred sex position.

Rather then some charming comeback involving the term "doggy style," through our mental connection, we could feel Embry stiffen and cock his hears. That's defiantly someone coming up the driveway... Doubling his speed, he backtracked on the patrol route to a clump of bushes where he'd be hidden along the drive.

I felt Jake go into Alpha mode, disentangling his furry limbs from mine and moving towards the steps, in case it was someone like Sam or...

It doesn't smell like leeches, I said, forcing myself to my own feet and, to Kate's grate surprise, nudging her knee. She appeared to take this as a sign to get the thought-stealing cradle-robber rather then repeat what she'd said about Margaret Beaufort's husband, Owen Tudor, dying when she was was seven-months pregnant of Henry VI... She was thirteen at the time. So glad I live in this century people. Even if it means I have to deal with vampires. Internet, indoor plumbing, lack of marriages at thirteen... The small joys in supernatural life...

They're not expecting anyone, are they?

I looked to Edward, who'd taken a place next to Kate on the porch. Jake was at the forest edge, waiting to run if necessary. "No, we're not. I can't hear the driver's thoughts yet either."

Then, suddenly, Embry shouted, It's the cruiser!

God, only Charlie? Wait... I thought you told him it would be a bad idea for him to come by over Christmas break, I stared accusingly at the mind-raper. Sure, these Denali vampires seemed to be "vegetarians," but what if they "slipped up" on Charlie? Mom wouldn't take that well... Nor would she take it well if Tanya or Kate managed to seduce him... however nasty that might be.

"We did... ah..." He paused and seemed to be listening to something. He probably was. Jerk-ward. I trotted back to the doggy bed Kate had made and, circling a few times, sprawled back down upon it. "He wants to talk to you and Bella. Together."

Let's see, what did Bella and I have in common? Two X-chromosomes each? Supernatural abilities? The annoying fact that my mom was dating her dad? Please let him be coming to ask us some girl question, like what to get Mom for Christmas. He was leaving it to a little late, but Charlie had never struck me as the rounded piece of kibble in the bowl, if you get my drift. I mean, if he'd not realized his beloved daughter was a blood-drinking monster and her "niece" was really his granddaughter and probably shouldn't be growing as fast as she was, well, that was just bananas for him. If it was anything else, by the shoe-cobbling elves that I'm sure are working for Nike or New Balance or someone in Indonesia, I was going to cut him down to the size of an elf and over-night him to the farthest shoe workshop I could find. Possibly underwater. I see, I told him. You can tell him I'm not here. I buried myself under the blankets some, fully aware that only a complete idiot wouldn't see me. I half-hoped Charlie counted. His daughter certainly did.

"I will try," he said somewhat blandly, and went in to inform his family – though not, it must be said, telling Kate, "Please do not tell Charlie about the kings you and your sisters have known."

And boinked, I added. Don't forget that.

He rolled his eyes.

Charlie pulled up a second or so later, greeted by Jake, now human and walking out of the woods in nothing but a pair of shorts. Granted, Charlie had had time to adjust to the fact that, yes, his girlfriend's children and their friends could shapeshift into wolves, it was another thing entirely to see your best friend's son walk out of the forest when there's easily three feet of wind on the ground, the threat of more in the air, and a wind chill of get-a-parka-if-you-want-to-live. I still found it disconcerting, and I was one of those monsters.

"Hey Charlie," he called out, meeting him before the chief had even made it to the porch. Which still had Kate (also, I might add, in weather inappropriate clothing) the thousand-year-old vampire and me the exhausted werewolf upon it. "What you doing here?"

Charlie explained, in that usual annoying Swan way, that he wanted to talk to me and Is-a-bat.

"Cool. The Cullens kinda have guests, though, so don't be surprised if Bells can't talk long. Lee," he said, now on the porch and lifting the blanket off my head, "Charlie would probably like to talk inside." Where it wasn't freezing to people with normal body temperature.

I rolled my eyes at him, but trotted through the door he opened for me. The paused to listen as Chief Swan came across Kate. "Allo," she said, doing her best Russian accent, "I am Ekat-"

Jerking Kate back from Charlie, he pushed her through the door too. "Charlie doesn't need to know who you are, Kate."

"Wasn't she at Bells' wedding?" he asked anyway as I climbed up onto one of the oddly vacated couches in the now-empty living room. Even Kate, after entering, disappeared upstairs.

"Yeah. She's one of the Cullens' cousins. Believe me when I say its just better not to meet them."

Making an odd gesture at me, where I was rolling on the white cushions in hopes of shedding upon them, he seemed to be trying to say, "Are they like you?"

"No, they're not like us. Just don't let them get you alone."

I nodded, then sunk my head onto my paws, willing this to be over with. Jake, luckily though, chose to sit beside me rather then go upstairs like the rest of them, to watch whatever wondrous thing Nessie was doing at the moment, or play Scrabble in Latin or something else idiotic. I lifted my head up and scooted forward, resting it on his thigh. He did the petting thing that should creep me out but didn't – and probably weirded out Charlie seriously – and, together, we waited for Bella.

"Is she...?" he asked somewhat nervously.

"Bells is coming... Oh, you mean Leah? No, she's having a I-don't-want-to-deal-with-being-human day."

Indeed I was. After having to spend the better part of a week human for that delightful thing people call menstruation (coming from the words men and frustration, in case you didn't know), I was enjoying being wolf again. It made me feel normal, however odd that sounded.

Then Bella the Vampire Doer was there, and all three of us – Jake, Bells, and me – were staring at Charlie, waiting to begin.

"So," he said, doing that blushing this that his daughter thankfully couldn't do any more and he shouldn't be doing in a house full of vampires, but what did he know? It filled the silence like a falling pin. Which is to say, not at all.

"Yeah, Dad?" she said eloquently after a moment more of silence.

I gave a doggy huff. Let's see: he only wanted to speak to his daughter and his girlfriend's daughter, but oddly enough not Seth. I was at a loss, but already I was bored. I just wanted to sleep. Some of the things I probably shouldn't think about with Embry still phased were rather exhausting in excess.

"As you know, I've been seeing Sue for quite a long time..." God. No. No! No! I refuse to hear this. I pressed my ears close to my head and squinted my eyes shut, but super-werewolf-hearing still forced me to listen to the words, "...and we like each other quite a lot and..."

Embry, please, please, please kill me now.

Why? What's going on, is-?

Charlie Swan is going to me my stepfather.

There was a small pause. And then, Charlie's not so bad.

To which I had to respond, Go fuck yourself. You're just General Hospital and Days of our Lives' love child. No one cares what you think.

I'll have you know it was Guiding Light and Days of our Lives.

Whatever. It still makes you the product of a scratch on somebody's scrotum. I should be an author or something with the way the words flow from my lips. ("Once upon a time there was a loser girl who thought her self-worth was defined by how many times a day her boyfriend fucked her. Then one day he ran off with a younger, prettier princess from the next castle over, and she was left with a whole bunch of squawking mouths to feed and a guy who won't pay any child support on time and never tells them to eat their vegetables when its his weekend to take them, making you the 'bad parent.' The End.") Or maybe not...

"...so I need your help picking out a ring you think Sue will like."

Oh, thank God! He'd not proposed to her yet. There was still time... Is Mom hypo-allergenic? I could get him to give her a cheapo ring and then when her finger turns all green she can dump his ass from here to Trenton.

Bella, of course, immediately agreed, and jumped up and hugged her dad and everything. Me, I just stayed laying there. I looked at Jake plaintively, so he told Charlie, "She's, er, happy for you and her mother, Chief Swan, and wishes you luck." No I didn't. I distinctly do not wish him luck or anything of the sort. I dealt with their creepy old-people love hoping it would pass, but I'm not letting Mom marry a man whose only other relationship was with a woman who ran out on him... I mean, it's for her own emotional safety and sanity. This must be stopped... Or not. I was really tired. "She's just... had a long morning."

Well, yeah, that's one way of putting it.

Then I closed my eyes again and hoped that it would all have been some strange, sleep-deprived delusion. It wasn't, and I fell asleep instead, and had dreams of Skittles-coloured wolves who wanted me to by subscriptions of their wedding magazines for their school fundraiser...


	11. Kilo

Scars are souvenirs you never loose; the past is never far.  
Did you loose yourself somewhere out there? Did you get to be a star?  
And don't it make you sad to know that life is more than who we are?"

Goo Goo Dolls "Name"

* * *

I woke with a surprised woof on Christmas morning, the woof because I was still in wolf form on the Cullens' couch, the surprised part because, when I opened my eyes, I found Emmett's face about three inches from mine. There was an impossibly wide grin on his face and a Santa Claus hat on his head. When I backed up far enough to see straight, I saw that the rest of him was in Santa Claus attire, down to a very round belly that had either been accomplished with judicious use of pillows or the ordering of a sympathy belly. For a moment I wondered if Irina had loaned him hers, and then I shook myself, remembering that she wasn't here. And then I shook myself again, remembering they didn't have such things as sympathy bellies when she was pretending to be Elizabeth Talbot – not that I thought of; I'm relatively sure of it actually, but I'm not willing to ask Kate for fear she'll start talking about the time she did Napoleon's entire midget army or something bizarre like that.

Then I shook myself again, and felt that something was distinctly wrong. Giving a wolfy frown, I tried to look behind me – and realized that a green elf hat was tied on my head. My realizations continued into an entire wolf-sized elfin costume, with jingly elven booties on my paws and a green bow tied on my tail.

If Jacob hadn't been standing next to him with the same costume (minus the bow, at least) and the most ridiculous look of resigned rage on his face, I think I might have shown Emmett the real meaning of "Merry Christmas." Instead, I burst into laughter.

Jake, you look ridiculous.

Your lucky, he grumbled. You weren't awake when Alice was trying to decide between the reindeer and the elf costumes. An image of little Alice making a reindeer costume for Jake a la Dr. Seuss's How the Grinch Stole Christmas popped into my head – and thus Jake's. And Seth and Quil's, as they were out patrolling; they'd be silent while waiting to see what my reaction would be. They joined me in laughter. You would think it funny, wouldn't you?

You look like an idiot.

So do you!

I hopped off the couch with a yawn and landed beside him. Turning around, I waved my tail in his face. But you don't have a bow. The bow just makes the whole costume. I looked at the watch on Emmett's arm – not the easiest thing for a wolf to do – and then asked, quite politely I thought, Why are we dressed as elves at five after midnight on Christmas morning with Vampire Claus here?

He looked at Emmett. Who, I now saw had been joined by his wife in a very inappropriate Mrs. Claus outfit, Alice, who was also an elf, and Jasper, who had been conned into his own elf hat and looked no happier then Jake did wearing it. Because, he said tersely, we have to start making presents for all the good little boys and girls of Christiandom.

Are we going deliver oil to the Jews next week or something? I had a really bad feeling that plan involved jet packs somehow.

Quite possibly. But, right now, we're going to to wake up Nessie for her first Christmas. The rest of them are already upstairs, waiting for us.

Alice, seeming to decide I'd enough time to wake up, walked over to Jake and I and, hand on her hip, pointed with the other towards the stairs. "Come on, mutts. We've already wasted seven minutes!"

Yes, I thought, because time is so precious when you live forever.

But maybe not Nessie. She was growing too fast. She already looked two-ish. By next Christmas, she'd easily be six or seven. Three years from now, she could be my age... and, in five more, she could just as easily be dead. It made me sad to think of, 'cause I really did like Nessie. Sure, she was annoying for a kid who still should have been a baby and should defiantly not be talking, and that mind thing she did was creepy, but I still liked her. She was less annoying then her parents, at the very least, and generally knew when Auntie Leah needed some alone time. And sure, she might talk about books I'd only ever heard of sometimes or a skit on Saturday Night Live sometimes, but she also did kid things, like play in ball pits and swing sets and what not. I really didn't want Nessie to die. Not even if she was going to be my step-niece.

Still, I headed up the stairs with the rest of them, (Emmett Claus breaking into a rousing round of "Santa Claus is Comin' To Town" that scared me) to wake up Nessie. While I did so, I thought about the strange dream vampiric staring had woken me from.

At some point in the night it had shifted from thoughts of wolves coloured like a sixty-four box of Crayolas to my memory of Rebecca's marriage to her Samoan surfer, Rip. That really wasn't his name – it was something pretentious like Raymond Ichabod Prescott III, and his father came from a line of stock brokers or something – but the initials came out to be Rip, so that's what everyone called him. Anyway, it was at the small, salt-box church on the Rez – the one that, while is still called The Church, was retrofitted by the Elders into something along the lines of a cheap hotel "ballroom," which is to say a place with basketball-esque floors, stacks of folding metal chairs in the closet, and really tall windows down the length of it overlooking the ocean on one side and Jenny's Quik Mart and Gas Station on the other. I forget why they redid it that way, but its where they have Prom and Homecoming and the scout things and most the tribe doings that don't involve fire and all the Elders' meetings.

Anyway, I was remembering it. She got married right out of high school – like graduation one Saturday, her wedding the next Wednesday or something like that – and she and Rachel are three years older then me, so when she was a senior, I was a freshmen. I hadn't started seeing Sam yet. I was at the thing alone, and there were like only twenty people there, and the fakest looking white arbour towards the back of the hall, where the altar or whatever used to be, which fake flowers had been entwined on. I knew they were fake, 'cause she'd fucking made me do the twining. The mushroom-bagging douche-wrapper would have made me lick envelopes if she'd sent any invitations. She just kinda went up to Billy two weeks before graduation, said she was marrying the guy she met on Spring Break, and that was mostly it.

The dream started out like that, all normal, only in the dream I'm not me as I was then, all fifteen-years-old and with that hair cut I hated even though Mom had insisted it looked wonderful on me, but as I am now all of, what? Six years later. I can't believe it's been that long. I'm sitting there, waiting for the thing to start, when I realize the whole pack is there – the current pack, also as they look now – and Jake's sitting next to me all handsome and fidgety in his suit, actually wearing shoes, that I can't help but laughing.

And then the scene changes, and it's not Rebecca's wedding, but Mom's to Charlie, and the arbour has real flowers in it that I was, once again, forced to put in it, and I just know that if not for my super-healing capabilities, my hands would be covered in some sort of cartoon bandages. Probably Scooby-Doo. I'm trying to be angry, 'cause I just can't see Mom and Charlie together and especially don't want her to be the next Mrs. Swan, but most people don't get me and Jake 'cause we're always arguing and everything, but that doesn't stop me from being Mrs. Leah Black one day.

Yeah, I know, it's gross to even consider with it, with Jake being on the hair's edge of legal, and still in school, and the ridiculous possibility of imprinting that could steal him away regardless of any ring that may sit on any finger, and I feel stupid for thinking it, but I like the idea. It'd be nice – one day, you know.

But my brain doesn't know it shouldn't be thinking about these things, and it takes the little drama I'd made of Charlie asking Mom to marry him – on Christmas day, of course, when the fucking sun was actually up in the fucking sky, and half a stocking of chocolate had been consumed – very Miracle on 34th Street-esque. There'd be the perfect tree, and the fire, and all the shiny presents, and mom would be sitting there, drinking coffee and looking very tired and weary (I don't know why she's looking on that way, it's not like Seth and I – well, Seth at least – were there to wake her at the Crack of Dawn and demand presents) as she sits on a footstool (of which we own exactly none) in front of said fire (which we do not have a place for). And the he says some corny things, and Mom says yes... and, anyway, my stupid, elven-hat-clad brain takes this and does the ol' switch-er-roo and suddenly the things that sounded so corny before don't sound half so bad when Jake's the one saying them. To me.

And that was last night's weird dream. I mean, the wolves I could understand – didn't I spend all my time as one? - as did the vibrant colours of their fur – that probably had something to do with Seth's childhood obsession with Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory – and I supposed I could understand bridal magazines based off the day I had, though not why wolves might be selling them. The rest of it, though... I'd not thought about Rebecca's wedding in ages, almost since it happened. I certainly didn't want to think about Mom and Charlie's...

If my subconscious mind was trying to tell me something, I hoped it was that I was a freaking nutcase. 'Cause not even at my girliest with Sam had I imagined ever getting married. Never saw myself as a wrinkly old maid either, but just not the kind of person who people married. Or had kids. Or anything like that. And now I was thinking of those things, and it was all Jake's fault. And Billy's. And Nessie's, for being so damn cute.

Yes, it was all Nessie's fault I had any thoughts about children of any sort in my head at all. But maybe one day...

Brain must turn off. I shouldn't think ahead like this. I refuse to let myself seriously think farther ahead then this school break. Because that's all I have that's guaranteed. He could go back to school next semester and there can suddenly be an exchange student from Bolivia or Kuala Lumpur or maybe just a girl who sat next to him in English, like Kim had been for Jared, and had been there all his life... No, I shouldn't think of the future, it only hurt, because after that there'd be no more falling asleep with Jake, and no more sex, and no more of our wonderful, idiotic conventions about buttons for our "I hate vampires" club and what to pester Esme to make for dinner.

Oddly enough, it'd been Nessie who'd given me the best advice on not looking into the future. I'd asked her the other day if it ever bothered her how she seemed to keep growing, how she might die before she's ten real years old if she kept on growing at this rate. And what had she said? "Never let the future disturb you. You will meet it, if you have to, with the same weapons of reason which today arm you against the present." It, apparently, was by some dead old Roman Emperor who lived before even the Denali's "mother" could've slept with him. But I guess it was right. I mean, what good is it thinking on what might happen tomorrow? I was happy with Jake now, and I'd deal with the future when it came. However inevitable that future of pain and suffering and heartbreak might seem.

They'd woken Nessie now, and she'd ridden on Jacob the Elf-Dog's back down to the living room – which, some time while I'd slept and I'd been too busy laughing my ass off at Jake to notice earlier, had been decorated to such movie extremes that fucking expected to see doughnut-doing, goat-milking film crew in one corner and a Master Card commercial in the other.

God, Alice goes overboard, doesn't she?

Distractedly, Huh?

I walked over to Jake and bumped my shoulder against his. What ya' thinking about? I asked him. It wasn't every day he was distracted enough not to insult one of the leeches with me.

Stuff... he said as we watched Nessie all full of childish joy and excitement opening things like chemistry sets and collections of work by James Joyce and Dostoevsky. They had her in a blue crushed velvet dress, and there was white lace on it, and her brown hair was curled and ribboned and it looked like something you'd almost certainly see in one of those Shirley Temple movies after she'd been adopted by the rich war profiteer. It was both very sweet and very sickening. I don't know which I felt more.

What kinda stuff?

Life. The Universe. Everything.

Deep stuff for a wolf to be thinking about.

He nodded. Still dressed as elves – me, because I'd no idea where I'd left my clothes and neither wanted to go and find them or borrow from the smelly leeches and Jake presumably for the same reason, - we were sitting next to the glass coffee table, watching everything that was going on. The happiness of vampires who'd seen between them nearly five times as many Christmases as there'd actually ever been, who had the rest of eternity to figure out what to do with their lives, and why they were in it, and why, with everything else in the world making perfect sense, there were such inexplicable creatures like werewolves and vampires and for all I fucking knew creatures like unicorns and elves and nut-smoking, beaver-herding wizards. They didn't have this perpetual worry that, in the end, their life would amount to something meaningless and a handful of ashes tossed about in the wind. They, at the very least, would contribute to the extinction of some innocent animals, the deaths of some innocent people who just happened to be in the way when they slipped up. Their undead lives, however uncelebrated, would be meaningful. Just look at what they'd done in Forks – their presence had reborn werewolves in La Push and had taken the chief of police's daughter from the realm of the human – and know what they had to have done elsewhere. Fake deaths in fake childbirths to confuse powerful kings. The legend of the succubi... and of the kind vampire... I can't help it.

Why not?

Well, he said slowly, its just that they've been talking in school. About applying to colleges, about colleges they've gotten into, careers and financial aid. About their jobs at the Quik Mart and the food court in Port Angeles. And I was thinking about how ridiculous it was that we never get to have a life like that, where my only problem would be what to get you for Christmas-

What did you get me?

He "elbowed" me with his shoulder and continued, And, at the same time, I look at all the kids I go to school with and am like, these idiots don't know what's going on in their very own town, and how grateful I am for actually being able to do something with my life, even if it just watching to make sure Nessie's okay. You know what I mean?

I know. I try not to, though: it makes you old.

Laughing then, You'll never be old.

I'm older then you, I reminded him.

You know what I mean.

Do I? But really. You don't need college necessarily to do anything with your life, though I understand it helps with the job part of things, which I've heard you need for the money to buy me presents with...

I'm just saying our lives are bordering on the edge of a bad sci-fi movie, in that I'm about to promise you I'll all work out somehow, the Cullens and Sam's pack and the Rez restrictions and your girly thing-

Girly thing? I laughed. Of all the different names I'd come up with to call my period, he used girly thing?

Girly thing, he repeated resolutely.

How is that bad sci-fi? Sure, the werewolf thing is a bit over done, but people say things like that all the time, then get eaten or turned into a bloodsucker or processed by the spirits of dead witches.

Because, like bad sci-fi, I'm going to say it, and it's actually going to happen.

And how do you know that? I could've mentioned imprinting. Or threatened to turn his fur pink for thinking such impossible things. Or asked him why he thought I was going to willingly spend the rest of my life with him.

Because, he said, and, for a moment, I let myself believe him.


	12. Lima

"I mean, these days, character isn't destiny any more. Economics is destiny. Ideology is destiny.  
Bombs are destiny. What does a famine, a gas chamber, a grenade care how you lived your life?  
Crisis comes, death comes, and your pathetic individual self doesn't have a  
thing to do with it, only to suffer the effects."

Salman Rushdie The Satanic Verses

* * *

"Life is a fucking, grave-robbing shit-hole in which nothing is ever accomplished, nothing ever changes, and, if we're lucky, there's a war going on somewhere so that a few of the thankless billions get a quick ticket out of this hell and into the next."

The pack, which was gathered around the antique dining room table, looked at me oddly. I didn't know why the gnome-kicking hell the vampires had a dining room, let alone that they'd had one until they'd forced us to eat in there on Thanksgiving despite the fact that I'd protested it was disrespectful to our eastern brothers and sisters to celebrate a holiday which, in its own right, celebrated the anglicization of their culture and the destruction of their people. But they had one, and we were starting Christmas dinner around it, having finished Christmas lunch about ninety minutes before. Sometime before then, Jake and I had helped each other (by which I mean, torn to the best of our abilities with our teeth) out of our elf costumes and returned to our rock/den/lean-to that I need to find a better name for, where were changed into real clothes... after a while. I really swear I'm going into heat for real the way we've been going at it lately, which isn't just the normal hormonal teenage way, I think, but something where we need each other all the time...

Hell, I'm half-ready to kick out the rest of the pack and, er, bury the bone with Jake right now. However, the big difference between this desire and what I'm talking about is that, thankfully, I can control it. This new one... not so much. Thus the necessitated quickie at our place before the finding of clothing.

But back to my pronouncement, which had all of the pack gathered around the table looking at me like I'd gone crazy. Or even crazier then I normally was.

"What the hell, Leah?" Seth asked. As he was sitting across from me, I kicked him under the table. Both of us being werewolves, it hurt my foot and his leg about the same, but it was worth it.

"Shut up, you moron – I'm trying to do a toast here."

"Is that what it is?"

I glared at all four of them and lifted up my glass of eggnog. I hated eggnog, but somehow Esme had managed to make it taste so wonderful I couldn't put it down. Damn these vampires and their cooking abilities. Either that, or the cocaine they bake into their food to make us think they can took. Whatever. You notice for this round of meals Nessie was missing, out hunting with her parents though, which probably means there're stronger drugs in the food this time around. I continued glaring at them until they raised their glasses as well. "Life being what it is, may we get through it without too much hassle."

I downed my glass. The others didn't.

"The first part sounded like Leah alright," Quil said, looking at me curiously. "The second part..."

"I'll have you know," I gestured with the carving knife, stolen from Jake, who'd been calmly using it to try and carve the roast beast and ignore his friends, "I can be nice when I want to be."

I was confronted with three sets of disbelieving eyes and a fourth that wanted me to, kindly, hand the knife back. I did, and picked up the ladle for the cranberry sauce. "I think they'd believe you better, kitten," Jake said, doing the Alpha/patriarch/whatever thing and handing out very large, very plentiful slices of roast, "if you weren't waving the spoon at them."

I waved the spoon at him instead. "Don't call me kitten."

"I agree," said Seth, looking slightly green, "don't."

"Sure, sure. Would you prefer some variant of puppy instead or should I go for the general food-group category?"

Scooping a healthy portion of mashed potatoes onto his plate, Embry gagged and wound up with a fair bit in his lap. "You two are sickening."

"I," said Quil, taking the bowl of potatoes from Embry and upending it on his own plate, "find it hilariously amusing."

"You find Barbie dolls and Disney movies amusing."

"For the twenty millionth time, Claire is three. That is what three-year-olds do."

"I can't believe you imprinted on a child."

"I can't believe you've been talking about it for months, but still haven't asked out Ruth Huntley."

"Wait," this was news to me. How had I missed it? Oh right, sex with Jacob. "You mean Ruth Huntley as in Tom-Huntley-the-Quarterback-when-I-graduated's little sister?" Quil nodded. I turned to Seth. "You know if you ever do anything that necessitates her brother beating you up, the fact that it'd sorta go the other way around will probably not be good."

"I guess," said Seth once he realized I wasn't making fun of him but merely looking out for the pack, however oddly I might be doing it, "I'll just have to make sure I don't do anything to make her brother want to beat me up."

"How many times have you wanted to beat up Jake?"

"Ah," he said sagely.

Even more sagely, Embry, on Quil's other side, pointed out around a mouthful of roast, "Furt 'e needs tew ast out Rooth."

Jake, who was playing footsie with me under the table (I never said we could control all our hormones. Hot eighteen-year-old Alpha male. Very receptive twenty-one-year-old Beta/Alpha female. No parents. Oodles of free time. The tre-est cool rock you've ever seen. You do the math), looked startled. "Oddly enough, Embry has a point."

"I resent the implication. I always have points. They're usually just not good ones."

"Like the one where you said Tanya would never recognize you as a human?"

"She'd never seen me as one before!"

"And he decided she wanted to fuck you within ten seconds of seeing you as a wolf. The woman's not sane."

"Do you think it's possible her ninth century gonorrhoea continued destroying her brain after she became a vampire?"

"It's possible. I heard hair and nails grow for like six months after you die."

"So-"

Our conversation – and the eating that took place around it – was interrupted by another one of those deathly midget screams. The dining room rang with dropping silverware and and chairs clattering to the ground as we rushed into the living room, where Alice was shouting, "Hurry!" at the top of her lungs to the fast retreating backs of Carlisle, Emmett, Jasper, and all the Denali's.

"What is it?" Jake asked the elf, her once jauntily-pinned hat now fallen to the floor, her tiny body quaking in her jingle-belled feet.

"Irina," she said quickly, almost too fast for our ears to catch, "she was going to surprise us... Saw Edward and Bella out with Nessie... She doesn't know..."

I phased right then and there, my clothes ripping into pieces as I started running in the direction I'd seen the others go. Only one piece of clothing hadn't fallen off, and that was the silver necklace Jake had given me, thick and long enough to look like a collar when I was phased. There was a small, diamond-shaped pendant too with the words:

Leah

If lost, please call

(360) 928 5959

– Jacob –

which had made me both "überhappy" (another German term, this one meaning a she-wolf-who-really,-really-wants-to-ravish-her-Alpha-for-his-Christmas-present, derived from the Latin "happius," meaning horny-werewolf) and ignited a feminist anger in me that had lasted until I managed to get my tongue in his mouth. Even if the number was for the Forks Police Department.

It was fear that gripped me now. Because Irina hadn't been told, like her Denali coven members, that Nessie wasn't an Immortal Child. She hadn't seen her grow in one short week more then most did in ten times that.

Because Kate had, among the various tales of people-whose-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandchildren-are-now-dead she'd fucked, had told us how her creator had been destroyed by the Volturi for creating an Immortal Child, and that kinda thing generally made people kinda paranoid about all sorts of stuff.

Because, if we didn't catch up with Irina and force the truth into her, I knew we were all going to die.

I caught up the stragglers before long, and, together, we followed her scent into the mountains. The rest the pack was no more then five seconds behind me, but we could see where she was going: towards the Rez.

Fuck fuck fuckity bad. I cursed. Either Sam's pack would catch her (if we were lucky) and tear her to pieces, probably igniting a war between us and them (which, again, was if we were very lucky), or Sam's pack would catch us trying to catch her (if we were less lucky) and ignite a war between us and them, or nobody would catch anybody (if fate did that piece of melon-smoking, groin-grabbing shit she usually did when I was involved in anything) and she's ignite a war between us and the crap-sucking, blood-drinking, people-killing Italians that would almost certainly end in our complete and utter destruction as well as the at least partial-destruction of Forks, La Push, and anybody who happened to be en route. Well, at least we won't have to go to Mom and Charlie's wedding now, I thought oddly.

You're one fucked up piece of goblin-shit, Leah.

The other three echoed Embry's sentiment.

Well, what the fuck are we going to do? We can't go onto the Rez without Sam getting at our throats. They can't go on the Rez without needed glue and an ice pack afterwards. And yet that's where she's going.

Jake, doing the Alpha thing that made certain hormones go out of control but which other ones, like adrenaline, luckily seemed to be keeping in check at the moment, Are you within Edward's hearing range?

Yeah. The worst swear-word I've heard him use so far is "drat." Sexually-repressed, secretly gay, mind-raping Victorian.

Tell him we'll take La Push and try to cut her off at the far boundary.

I looked towards the bloodsucker in question briefly as I ran, trying to get to the near border. He nodded, and started telling the others where to head. Leaving me heading onto the Rez informal treaty had kept me from entering since late September.

I crossed into Sam's land easily, though the more-or-less sudden shift of smells away from the pine-and-earth of the land we patrolled (and thus made smell even pinier and earthier) to the ocean-breeze-and-fire-ashes of the other pack was startling. Even if I hadn't once patrolled their very land, I could have told you their routes without much thought. Fear crept into me that Sam or Paul or Jared or one of the younger boys would come across me and... well, keep me from catching Irina, which was the future I really didn't want, but generally try and bother me too. The others were just too far back to see me in the darkness, though I could have no more then a quarter-mile on them, and thanks to the soft sprinkle this Washington night had given us, they could at least make out my paw prints in the mud if they couldn't catch the sugary-sweet-and-bitter trail.

Fucking beaver-banging, horse-humping, elephant-eating, squirrel-smoking, lemur-licking, bunny-killing, bloodsucking bitch! I don't know if it was to Irina I thought this unique curse to, or fate for doing this the moment I tried to toast her.

For some reason, this made Quil think of English. There once was a girl named Irina who liked to sleep with hyenas, he began.

But try as she might, all day and night, my little brother of all people finished, it always ran out of the arena.

I was just beginning to pass the houses on the very far outskirts – Ms. Call's, the guy who drives the Frito-Lay truck's, one of Ruth Huntley's uncles' houses – and the smell of Sam's pack was getting stronger. As was Irina's. Oh my great, 'nad-stealing, horn-blowing, bottle-fucking God, I'm going to die listening to idiots, I thought loudly over them. I am going to fucking die listening to my pack make up limericks about a vampire whore not a mile from home, having done nothing with my life but... What had I done? Besides Jake, a lot?

And the smell sea-smell was getting a lot stronger, despite the fact I was running parallel to the ocean. The others were catching up with me – dizzyingly, I could see myself in their eyes now, even if I was too far ahead to make out very clearly – and could smell the same thing.

Sam wants another pussy fight.

Hello Captain Obvious, I said.

You think he sent anyone out after Irina, or he decided to have them all come and watch him yell at us?

My brother, ever the optimist, assured us, The Cullen' will head her off.

I don't think so, Sargent Stupid.

How come Quil gets to be a captain?

Jake groaned. Doesn't Sam have a fiancée he's supposed to be making doilies with or something? His mental picture of Sam and Emily making doilies together nearly caused me to trip with laughter. There were pink aprons involved, and not on Emily.

You know how it goes: if Sam ever lets himself have any fun, the rod'll fall right out of his ass, and we all know how much he doesn't what that. I tried very hard with this statement to not let my mental comparison of Sam, a.k.a. Mr. Have-We-Started-Yet? (a.k.a. Mr. What-Do-You-Mean-You're-Done?), to Jake, who is Jake, no further explanation needed. Not only would it probably kill my brother with embarrassment, but because I didn't need Jake's ego any more inflated then it already is. We don't want him to be the Great Flying Werewolf of La Push, now do we?

The shadows were so deep I didn't see the wolf step out in front of me until I'd almost run into him.


	13. Mike

"Now and again we try to just stay alive. Maybe we'll turn it around  
'cause it's not too late' it's never too late. The world we knew won't  
come back. The time we've lost can't get back. The life we had won't  
be ours again. This world will never be what I expected. And if  
I don't belong..."

Three Day's Grace "Never Too Late"

* * *

Standing in front of me was a big silvery wolf who just seemed to be saying, "What the fuck are you doing here, Clearwater?" Well, at least it wasn't Sam.

To which, though he couldn't hear me, I responded, Hi Paul. Nice to run into you. Buh-bye now, as I tried to go around him. That idea didn't work so much, as a spotted black one – Brady, I think – was in the way. Goodness he'd gotten big. And once again I was the smallest wolf around. I turned back towards Paul and bared my teeth at him. Get the fuck out of the way Paul. You are ugly and annoying and I'm in a pissy mood.

Try to distract them? Jake suggested. See if you can get them to take you to Sam or something so we can keep on the trail.

With a sigh, I cocked my head toward the houses as if to say, "My house is like a block from here. Can we phase and talk?" while, to Jake I said, You know, I really don't want him for an in-law. Can I just kill him and save us all the trouble?

To which Seth said with barely – and I do mean barely – contained fury, What do you mean, 'in-law'? It's probably a good idea he was already phased, or else he'd have done so at that moment. Seth liked me and liked Jake even more, but was even more paranoid then I was about Jake doing something to hurt me.

Luckily Paul and Brady seemed to take the bait, and we were trotting off towards home so we could fight like, well, not wolves. Well, you see, Jake filled the cistern with a whole bunch of goldfish earlier and while I was going 'what the fuck?' I noticed the rubber duck floating on top with the message 'Out of all the fishes in the world-'

Love you to tiny pieces of kibble, Lee, but can we NOT have this conversation right now?

I mentally rolled my eyes at all of them, trying to figure out how I was supposed to open the damn door without any thumbs (and why one earth he wanted to have the stupid conversation at all). Stupid paws. Stupid me for phasing without bringing a set of clothes... though, honestly, it wasn't the top thing on my mind at the time. Stupid Mom for not installing a doggy door. Well, just change the wording a bit and put the goldfish in the bathtub, Seth, and you can try asking out Ruth tha- O my mother-fucking, ass-biting God! What is he doing to my mother! My brain could not take this right now. It literally shut down, and only years of being a werewolf kept me from going feral and ripping the man apart. 'Cause, kindly, Paul and Brady had phased, dressed, and opened the door for me. However, on the other side that door lay the horror of horrors: Mom and Charlie making out on the living room couch.

And, of course, what I saw, the pack saw, leading to them cringing and Seth shouting, Mind bleach! Mind bleach! No, better yet, silver bullet! Garlic! Anything! Make the pain go away!

Drama Queen, said Quil, though he too clearly thought it was the most disgusting thing he'd seen in ages. With the one exception of Jake's mental replay of The Thing's birth. Shudder.

At least I'm the queen of something. You only ever get to be the pretty-pretty princess.

Whatever was said in reply to this, I don't know, 'cause the moment the scene passed my eyes, I'd closed them and run blind through the room, working only from memory as I ducked behind said couch and, tugging the throw blanket down with me, phased. "You," I said, wrapping the blanket around me and standing up, "have now traumatized the whole pack for life, I hope you know."

I was going to go on with something about how Jake and I had wanted to do that, and how Seth was even now trying to claw out his eyes, but Paul, looking angry, wanted an explanation. "The deal was you and the other leech-lovers had to stay on their land until-"

"Not my fucking idea to come here. Believe you me." I tied the blanketed even tighter around me and went to stand in front of him, poking with the more important words at his less-than-amazing chest. Some of my nails were still rather long and jagged. Hopefully they hurt, "But we were tracking one and," poke, "when she went onto the Rez," poke, "we thought it'd be better to follow," two pokes, "then leave it to you guys to try and find her!" And a yet another. My tirade done, I spun back to the couch, where Mom and Charlie were now sitting on opposite ends, as if trying to prove they'd not been doing anything. I sat down between them and pulled on Charlie's discarded jacket. There. It looked like that was as dressed as I was going to be in this situation. Le sigh.

Turning slowly red, "Sam and the others-"

"Don't the hell kill her!" Wow. Now my maternal instincts were passing along to full vampires. I'm so seriously fucked up. Stupid hormones. Stupid vampires-who-have-friends-rather-then-kill-each-other-like-good-leeches. Stupid rules.

"Why the fucking not?"

"Her name's Irina." Irina Korsorskaia of Serbia, if you wanted to be technical, turned in the year of the Battle of Hastings. She'd been twenty-one. The things I learned from Kate, I swear. That, and an amusing story about the creation of the banana daiquiri. But anyway, "She's one of the Alaskan veggie-leeches."

"Then she should-"

"Look! She saw Nessie!" I restrained the urge to throw something at him, mostly because all I had to throw were the jacket I'd stolen and the blanket that fell to about an inch below where it needed to. "She thought the Cullens had turned a baby! That's a crime even in their world."

"So?" That's what the idiot says, looking like he's going for the bouncer-of-the-year award in my mother's living room? God, what does Rachel see in this guy? At least Rip had all of three braincells to rub together. In fact, maybe more, 'cause he got his degree in some pre-law thing and then decided it'd be better use of his time surfing on Hawaiian beaches. I know she has this whole imprinting thing to deal with, and she can't actually tell him to fuck off, but, if imprinting's supposed to complete you, then Rachel must be Paul's brains... which means Paul is Rachel's brawn, which is kinda creepy.

I settle for shouting, "You stupid-ass, mother-fucking idiot! She's going to go to the Volturi... and is going to bring them here!" Think about it, melon-grabbing, nose-wipe. Volturi. The Italian vampire kings... ah, the lights are going on at last, even if they are puny twenty-five watt things, "If we don't catch her first!"

Turning to Brady, he says, "Make sure she doesn't go anywhere," then strips and phases right there, running out the still open door and, presumably, to join Sam wherever he was. Did it make sense? No, because, a) Brady couldn't stop me if I wanted to go anywhere, even if he now had an inch on me and, b) I can outrun anybody except, maybe, vampires with a five mile head start. Oh well, I'll wait five minutes and follow. It's not like he can do anything to stop me.

Rather then look at Mom or Charlie, I ask, "So, Brady, how're things?"

He looks surprised but, taking a seat on the floor by the door, answers, "Okay. It's been weird not having you and the others around. You?"

"The leeches have guests for Christmas. One of them keeps telling me about all the people she's slept with. But what can you do?"

Brady had no idea, and told me so.

Of course, Charlie, being Charlie, seemed to be more concerned then Mom about why two half-dressed boys and a grey werewolf had run into her home at approximately six forty-three on Christmas night, proceeded to yell at each other, and were now, calmly and half dressed, discussing their social calendars. "What's going on here?" he said. I imagine it was his best policeman voice too. Pity it wasn't that great. So much for Cops: Forks Edition. His dreams must be crushed. Oh well.

"Irina is going to tell the Volturi that the Cullens have turned a child. Which means, if they believe her, we're all probably going to die."

"I see," he said, clearly not. Mom saw this as time to get coffee and cookies. Can't stand coffee (I did once, especially the Irish kind, but it was a wolf thing where none of us could stand even so much as coffee-flavoured ice cream. Don't know why, but that's what it is.), but the cookies were M&M. "Who's Irina?"

"One of the Cullens' Alaskan cousins. Tanya and Kate and Carmen and Eleazaar's sister. She didn't come to the wedding, I think..."

I turn to Mom. She gives me a nod that says, "I know Charlie went to see you and Bella yesterday and he's been digging through my jewellery box. I know he's going to ask me to marry him," shudder, "so he deserves to know. I'll settle it with the other Elders."

Charlie, aloud, says, "And the Volt-yuri are...?"

I turn again, this time facing Charlie. He may be Bella's father, but he's less of an idiot then she is. I've already noticed him noticing when we call leeches "leeches," amongst other things. He probably has some of it guessed already. I lean my head against Mom's shoulder and ask, "You sure you really want to know?"

He nods.

"The Volturi are sort of... royalty. They make the rules for people like the Cullens and their Denali cousins. They're not people anyone wants to piss off. They're dangerous in a way the Cullens and Denalis aren't. And they have no qualms about killing anyone who gets in the way of their perfect little world." I swallowed and thought best how to explain it. After all, his daughter was one of the leeches I was talking about here. "You know how Jake and I and the others are werewolves? The Cullens – and their cousins, and maybe one or two hundred others – are, er, special too, but not like us. They're..." I just spit it out. I'd done that with everything else in my life. "The Cullens are vampires. But they and the Denalis don't drink human blood, only animal – not like the rest of their kind. The Volturi rule the vampires, and one of the rules is that you can't turn children into lil' vamps..." I looked up to see if he was following me.

He seemed to be. In fact, his lips even formed the word, "Renesmee," though he couldn't vocalize it.

"I'm going about this wrong... Bella fell in love with Edward knowing he was a vampire, married him knowing it. Then, amazingly, she managed to get knocked up," not so amazing really if you don't use protection. That is why condoms, when we can remember them, are Jake's new best friend, "and survive. Nessie's her and Edward's kid. Half-human, half-vampire. You've seen her – she was only born in September though. Bella's been a vampire since then," I shuddered. "The process wasn't pretty." If I wasn't completely certain that I couldn't, despite the periods I'd suddenly started getting, get pregnant, I'd never have let Jake touch me again. That childbirth was rough, even in memory. "But, yeah. Tanya, Kate, Carmen, and Eleazaar came down for Christmas, but Irina wouldn't come, 'cause she's still kinda angry at the pack for killing her mate – he was trying to kill Bella though, so it wasn't like we weren't justified, - but I guess she changed her mind. She saw Nessie before we could explain and... yeah. Hopefully they'll catch her. If not, we're all going to die."

"Please stop saying that, Leah."

"It's true Mom. I mean, I guess we could try running, but they've people who can find us. It leads to general death either way. So, what did Charlie get you for Christmas?"

Before Mom could answer or Charlie could stop processing with his mouth open, I heard the sound of footsteps coming closer. Brady did too, and we both jumped to our feet and went to the door. Both packs were standing there, some phasing out and heading into the house, others – mainly Jake, Seth, Sam, and Jared – were growling and snapping at each other on the porch, clearly fighting over something. "Boys," I said sharply enough that all four turned, "in the house before the neighbour's see you and call the police. I don't want to have to hear Charlie explain why he had to be called on a dog fighting ring in front of our house."

Being the only girl in the packs has its advantages. One, it means they all know who's talking when I say something and, two, they all know I'm a literal bitch and will see to it that they will live to regret anything I might wish them to; and, three, I'm like Alpha female or something, 'cause they generally listen to me. Odd, I know.

The four quickly joined the others inside. The living room was crowded with ten werewolves plus two humans and the couch, but we'd created a natural divide, Sam's pack lingering by the door, the rest of us hanging back by the door to the kitchen. Even Quil and Embry were staring aggressively towards our former brothers on the other side of the room.

Jake quickly had an around around me before his shorts were even zippered all the way. "We lost her at Blind Man's Leap. She must be swimming, but God knows where." Blind Man's Leap was the tallest cliff outside La Push's boundaries, though barely. He must have caught up to the vampires there. "The leeches have headed back to the manor to start battening down the hatches. Though," he said more loudly now, turning to glare at Sam and snarling more then a little, "if somebody hadn't insisted on trying to attack us-"

"We had an agreement, Black. You were to stay on the Cullens' land-"

"Cum-sucking hell, Uley," he said back, vibrating a little with the anger and clutching me closer. I began to realize that he didn't realize he was doing it, and that, on some subconscious he was letting Sam know who the Alpha was and who I belonged to, i.e., said Alpha. I'd've laughed if I wasn't so busy picturing my head the two of them fighting, not just because Sam had kept Jake from getting to Irina in time, but over me.

Wow. I don't know whether to feel special or kick both of them in the 'nads.

Jake continued, "I just came to make sure you hadn't had Paul kill Leah to keep her from helping. It's the kinda thing you'd have him do."

"I don't-"

"I don't care a flying fuck what you want, Uley. My pack's going back to the manor to get this mess you helped cause under control, and I'll have someone tell you what's going on once the grown-ups figure it out." He looked back at the boys. "We're falling out."

I pulled away from Jake enough to wiggle out of Charlie's coat. Turning around as we walked away, I wiggled my fingers at Sam's pack with the widest smile they'd ever seen on my face. Sure we were going to die, but Sam was going to be put in his place before we do.


	14. November

"Imagine that you are creating a fabric of human destiny with the object of making men  
happy in the end, giving them peace and rest at last, but that it was essential and inevitable  
to torture to death only one tiny creature – that baby beating its breast with its fist, for instance –  
and to found that edifice on its unavenged tears, would you consent to be the architect on those conditions?"

Ivan Karamazov in Fyodor Dostoevsky's The Brothers Karamazov

* * *

As we were running back to the manor, I was trying to keep my thoughts very much to myself, largely because my hormones, in acknowledging with my brain that overprotective Alpha Jake was drop-down-and-ravish-me hot, had decided the ravishing could not wait until after we'd talked about ways not to get killed with the leeches. Well, had decided to decide it could wait. Nearly all the parts south of my brain were in disagreement.

Luckily, everyone seemed a bit too caught up in their own thoughts about our immanent destruction to pay much attention to each other. Except for Seth. He was trying very hard to think about things other than the scene I'd unwillingly witnessed earlier with our mother and... Well, what are we to call Charlie now? Stepfather? Er, no. Still Charlie? Pops? 'Cause if he thinks I'm calling him Dad I'm going to stick it to him where thee the sun don't shine... Anyway, rather then think of said scarring encounter, he was thinking about root canals. Which were apparently less painful.

Stupid ass, mother-fucking son of a whore and a hamster! Jake was thinking quite loudly.

I was running side by side with Jake; every now and again I'd bump into him to let him know I was there. I did it again now. That's being mean to the hamsters out there.

We could've caught her-

I know, Jake.

-but Sam had to go and try to prove who was King of the Wolves-

He does have his ass and his brain confused. I mean, I'm sooo obviously Queen, so you have to be King.

He was bristling with barely contained rage, -and so we couldn't catch her before-

I know, Jake.

-and now I have no kangaroo-fucking, ice-banging idea how we convince the Volturi that Nessie's not one of the Immortal Children-

Maybe the leeches'll have an idea, I told him, not very convincingly I'm afraid. Frankly, I thought the Italians were going to come and slaughter us all, the only question being whether they did it themselves or used one of the nuclear bombs they were sure to have lying around. Or maybe they'll settle for napalm. A nuke going off in Washington might raise some questions they don't want asked.

-and put Sam into his place-

Should be fun. We could sell tickets for a hundred bucks a pop, winner take all. We'd be rich. And then he could by me more shiny things, which I'd decided I quite liked when they weren't in vampires' kitchens.

Under any other circumstances, yes, but...

But now the lingering threat of death kinda takes away all the fun?

Yeah. Stupid Sam Uley.

Ditto, I said, bumping into him again.

I don't like the way he looks at you, he told me, voice growing gruff.

Awe, I joked while my lady bits grew excited at his tone, which is quite annoying when your brother and his two best friends can easily hear everything your thinking if they ever managed to pause for thinking, for just one moment, that we were all going to die. Don't worry, High and Mighty Alpha. I'm not planning on going anywhere. I shook my head, which rattled the dog tag/necklace he'd given me. I'd come to the conclusion that his father was paying him a dollar for every time he did me or something, because that was the only way I could figure out how he'd afforded it. Or maybe he'd just discovered, like I had, random fifty-dollar bills tucked into shoes the leeches let me borrow or placed on top of neatly folded laundry I hadn't washed and certainly hadn't folded. I'm 'yours,' remember?

That didn't seem to help much. He looks at you like he's seen you naked.

Jake, there's no one in the pack who hasn't seen me naked. Or vice versa. It's one of the hazards of being a werewolf.

Which seemed to help even less. He looks at you like he's seeing you naked.

I laughed. Admittedly, I did. Probably not the best thing to do, but still. He was the only one I'd come across lately who'd looked at me like that. Jacob Black, listen to me. Listen to me very carefully: I never loved Sam. It was just kinda... convenience for the both of us, something that was expected of us and we kinda just fell into. Well, at least, it was on my part. We... (I checked to make sure none of the pack was listening. Quil and Embry were trying to think of things we could do to keep the Volturi at bay, manly running to Antarctica, where were could play with penguins on our off hours and see their sparkle from a mile away; Seth had moved on to crappy movies he'd seen lately) we slept together once – once – and I hated it, and made excuses not to see him again for ages after that, and probably would have broken up with him myself if he hadn't gone and done it first. I don't hate him for leaving me. I hate him for not letting me leave him first. I mean, I always had thought he was ridiculously devoted to me, and then he goes and does my cousin? I gave a snort of disgust. I hate him for making me seem the victim... I hate Emily more, because she was my best friend, once, and should have known this, and if you're supposed to be whatever your imprint wants, if she didn't want him boinking her or whatever the moment he saw her, that's how it would've gone down. But she didn't even have the grace to let me break up with him first... I guess it's her I really hate, but it's just so much easier to hate Sam... especially since I started phasing, the bow-legged, scruffy-looking flea-monger... Anyway, I sighed, hating to have to be discussing emotions, however much it seemed to be that Jake might go off and maul somebody (preferably Sam or Irina, but I'd settle for Charlie too at the moment) if I didn't, like I said, the only place I'm going is wherever you're headed, though I might stop for clothes first.

I wouldn't mind if you didn't.

God, you're such a boy.

I thought that's what you liked about me.

I rolled my eyes. Aren't we supposed to be working on a way not to have the Volturi kill us all, burn the pieces of our disfigured corpses, and spread the ashes between here and Italy from their supersonic jets?

I already planned that out, he said in his most serious Alpha voice (which almost had me dropping to the ground and going belly up right where we were, mostly because take-charge Jake is hot, just as shy Jake as hot, and I probably have a million-and-one issues that years of psychotherapy and a whole season with the Dog Whisperer won't solve. I mean, I already know who the damn pack leader is! That's kinda the problem. Are there any mythical creatures around here with psychology degrees that are not mind-reading/emotion-feeling vampires? 'Cause I want to know what a twenty-one-year-old human who spends about half her time as a giant Alpha female wolf is supposed to do with her oft bizarre combinations of thoughts, hormones, and whatever else is going on inside me, which can't be good, because I've come to understand Fox is now syndicating my life. I expect them to request I get cancer next. I'll have to go to kemo, and then I'd loose all my hair, and then I'd be a hairless werewolf, and that's just one step too far.

That's good. What's the plan? Mine was not to think how hot Jake was, with his delicious eight-pack and very nice arms... and hands... or how hot he was as a very handsome, very masculine wolf... which was weird to contemplate, knowing that I wasn't just one werewolf thinking another is drop dead sexy, but also could be a werewolf thinking the same of a human, or a human thinking the same of a werewolf... It made me very sexually confused. I wished it wouldn't, even if I generally cured this confusion by having sex with Jake, whatever form we were in. Though, I must point out, only when we were in the same one. Though he was right all those months ago:

It wasn't amateur werewolf porn.

God! Concentrate, Leah! Concentrate! Drag your head back up from your tail and concentrate.

But didn't someone say, "Eat, drink, and be merry for tomorrow we will die"?

Concentrate!

Okay. I'm better now.

The plan is: don't die.

That's your brilliant plan?

You don't like it?

How are we supposed to not die when they start ripping us limb from limb?

It involves not getting ripped limb from limb.

I see... how?

Still working on that part.

Still working on that part!

We were long on Cullen land and could see the manor rising spy hop from the evening fog that had descended upon the forest. Everything was very quiet and peaceful. I half expected a narrator (for my crappy TV show life, you know, now into season three) to start singing Silent Night or O Little Town of Bethlehem.

As we trotted onto the porch (the guys phasing and heading in, me taking a minute to find one of Kate's doggy bed blankets before heading in; stupid phasing in clothes), though, we could hear the sounds of quick vampire talking, so quick it was almost hard for us to make out...

"...it's the only way, Carlisle."

"What's the only way?" Jake said as I entered. Most the vampires had changed out of their odd Christmas attire and into what could have easily been their version of hiking clothes. Hell, with the heavy plaid button-downs and sturdy boots, it could have been Dad's version of hiking clothes. But they, minus Bella, who must have been upstairs with Nessie (and wouldn't have been of any help at all anyway) were standing in a circle around the coffee table.

Alice didn't answer. "The Volturi our coming, yes, but in my vision it's not until after the heavy snows – the kind we don't get here until February. That gives us a month at the least, six weeks on the outside... If we get enough people to witness Renesmee isn't an Immortal Child... There are only the three, plus the wives and the guard... there are only about a dozen of them... There are eight of us already, thirteen with the Denal-"

"We failed you once, kuzyni," said Tanya earnestly. "We will not leave you in your time of need."

"We are thirteen vampires, then, and five werewolves. If we can only get the nomads... the Irish, Egyptian, and Amazonian covens... even a few of them, just long enough to make them pause..."

"You mean," I said, "there's a chance we won't die?" A couple of heads bobbed. I turned to Jake, who was holding me close to him again (note to self, overprotective Alpha hot, but slightly clingy. Must speak to him about that – not that I really mind, at the moment at least), and said, "I like this plan."

"What do we need to do?"

"Jasper and I will head south... Jazz's experiences will work best there, and I have a strong feeling that Kachiri will be able to help us..." With that, she grabbed the empath's hand and started running before she hit the door. The sound of her Porche leaving the garage followed a second later.

In her wake, though, I could see a globe, easily two feet in diameter, positioned on the table. There were small markings – two gold dots, one at approximately Forks, the other somewhere in Alaska; a handful of red, with one in South America, four scattered across Europe, and two more in Egypt and China – across it, and the area between the tropics was shaded in a most curious way – not really shaded, but more of highlighted. It took me a moment to realize that no one had drawn on the globe, but rather it had been made that way, with the colouring on the inside of two glass hemispheres that had been expertly fused together. It looked professionally done, but one of the Cullens, I'm sure, had done it.

Carlisle took charge. "Alistair is the oldest among us, after the Volturi and the Romanians. He would be a boon to have."

"If you can find 'im," Carmen interrupted. Despite being three-hundred-sixty years-old and having lived the last couple centuries outside of the Iberian peninsula (I really knew entirely too much about the Denali coven. Thank you Kate, you scum-sucking nematode. I'm sure you have Chlamydia or something. I mean, think about it: Kate, Chlamydia – it is mostly good alteration. I'm sure she's the leech her lent her name to that STD. And, for the record, I've also given pre-emptive thought on which STD to claim Irina has. I cannot think of any, so she gets an IUD instead), she'd a strong Spanish accent. Eleazaar sounds from Iowa when you talk to him. It's very weird. "Whatever rock 'e is 'iding under, 'e will not come out for anything less than absolute confirmation the rest of the world 'as fallen into nuclear 'olocaust."

"He owes me several favours. Esme and I can try to find him, and get Siobhan and her coven on the way. Maybe even some European nomads."

"Rose and I can take the North Americans then."

"And we," said Tanya, indicating herself, Carmen, and Eleazaar, "can go to Amun and the Asians. They trust us."

Kate pouted. "Good thing I like the pet wolves, sister dearest."

Wait! I noticed a flaw in the plan. Edward, you better be listening you piece of mouldy, Victorian-era toilet-rag.

"Tia would never let you near Benjamin if you came with us..."

"Well, how was I to know the little puta had taken him for her mate?"

Not all these mother-fucking leeches are "vegetarians" like you, are they?

"Ladies," said Emmett. I began to fear, because it was his preacher voice he was using. He had started using it about three days ago when he'd given me a lecture on the sin of fornication outside of marriage and how he would have been forced to marry us then and there if only he'd been ordained. I gathered his bet had involved Jake and me "getting together" in that sense before New Years Day, or something like that. "Let us remember what Solomon said in the Psalms: Do not let a man come between you, oh beautiful ones; there are free enough fish in the world for you to need not fight over whose catch it was."

Rose hit him over the back of the head. "Next time around," she said, "you are taking some class where you have to sit and listen to yourself say these stupid things."

"You can take recordings of my sermons and-"

They're not, are they? What are we going to do when twenty gazillion human blood-drinkers show up in Forks? Not only am I super amazingly against the killing of people, but Sam's pack might just take it as a breach of treaty or something to have them all show up... and then I'll be forced to hurt Colin and Brady, and I really don't want to do that. They do not know that which their fucking shit-headed, sulphur-assed Alpha has them do.

"We're leaving. By Carlisle, Esme, Renesmee," she waved. And she and Emmett heading out, arguing over what he should do after Seminary. His next logical idea was Astrophysics. Apparently, he wanted to see if vampires could survive eating extraterrestrial animals. Idiot. You have to find extraterrestrials first. Unless...

"Kate, Bella and I will stay here to convince those you send us then... Though Leah does have a point."

"Cow-sniffing, shrimp-fucking, fleece-stealing slice of Michael Jackson's hell!" I hated having points.

"There's no way an area the size of Washington is going to be able to support even five normal vampires for any great length of time. The humans are bound to notice something before too long, and if we manage to convince the Volturi not to destroy us for creating an 'Immortal Child,' they might just do so for risking exposure."

"I do not like it either son," Carlisle said as the Denalis minus Kate began to head out. "Send them into other states to hunt, if you must; purchase all you can from the blood banks, if they will drink that. Or see if they will do as we do, even for a small time. But we must try."

And then he and Esme were gone, and suddenly, another thought struck my mind. "Fuck!"

"What?" asked Jake as Edward suddenly fell into deep laughter, falling onto the couch while the rest of us looked on.

"I just thought of something: if Esme's gone, who's going to cook?"

Kate dropped onto the floor, denting it a little, in all out peels of laughter. As did Jake, pulling me down the floor with him. I started punching him to let go of me, and it was at the point he started, er, to stop laughing that Seth and Quil headed out on patrol, and Embry went back into the dining room to salvage what remained of the last decent meal he was likely to have for a long time.


	15. Oscar

"The last girl and the last reason to make this last for as long as I could; the first kiss and the  
first time that I felt connected to anything. The weight of water, the way you taught me to  
look past everything I had ever learned. The final word in the final sentence you ever uttered to me was love."

Snow Patrol "Make This Go On Forever"

* * *

Despite being on the floor of leech manor with two nearby laughing leeches, Jake tried to kiss me. Tried, mostly because I was trying to stand at the moment. "Come on, Jake; let's get out of here," I tell him, and run out the door. There was nothing else we could do but but what we were doing now. We would continue to patrol the perimeter, and then could deal with the various leeches when they came. Oh, and we could deal with Charlie and Sam in the morning. Right now, it was Christmas, and I had serious psychological issues to work out.

I wait for him in the yard, still wrapped in the wolf-hair-covered blanket, and kiss him deeply when he's close enough. He seems surprised, but doesn't mind, and kisses me back before I pull away and started trailed my lips down his neck, sucking lightly. "Leah," he moaned, trying to bring my mouth back up to his, but I just shook my head and danced away towards the forest.

"Come on, O Mighty Alpha," I called back, laughing, feeling oddly carefree despite the likelihood of our death before the next few months was out. I think it was odd reaction to the fact we weren't dying in the next week, and that old, "eat, drink, and be merry," thing being taken to its natural conclusion... "Bet you can't catch me." And I sprinted through the woods – I wasn't just the fastest wolf; I'd done track in high school. My lack of shoes slowed me just a little – winding around trees and following my own path.

Jake followed after me, curiously at first, still tense from earlier, then laughing as well, until we were about three miles from the manor and another ten from the border. I paused then, just in his sight, in a small hollow I came across and started playing with part of the blanket tucked into the rest, helping to hold it up.

He ran forward a little faster, and I pulled the blanket off, throwing it at him when he entered the little clearing. It fell over his face, and I laughed as he pulled it off roughly. "Are you trying to kill me?" Jake asked, grabbing hold of me firmly once he was in reach and pulling me towards him.

"Now why would I try to do that?" I said lowly, running my hands up and down his very nice chest. I very much like Alpha genes at the moment. I can't say I'd much mind, at the moment, having kids with them. One day. When the thing with the Italian leeches is taken care of and he's graduated and we've jobs and whatnot. If Dr. Bloodsucker is right and my periods are actually that and not cyclical haemorrhages resolving themselves quickly. Because, yes, that was sooo likely, Leah.

"Because," he said, doing an action I won't try to describe, but somehow came to my feet being kicked out from under me and falling to the ground, soon to be followed by Jake, who did it slightly more gracefully and landed on me, not the ground, "you are an evil, evil woman."

"Am I now?" I started kissing his neck again, trying to undo his shorts while severely distracted. It was hard, but I managed, and was trying to get him to do things with this new found freedom, but, at the moment, he was a little more occupied with the rounder parts of me...

"Yes," he said. And that was the last thing, besides my name, that he said for a while.

When I woke the next morning, we were still wrapped up in each other, with him heavy inside me. A very comfortable way to fall asleep, I soon discovered, but not to wake up. "Jake," I said, shaking him a little.

He snorted and rolled off of me, which would have worked, except for the fact we were so tangled together, I ended up going with him. Luckily, however, he seemed to have rolled onto a fresh fallen pine cone and woke with a start that probably would have been spectacular if I, well, hadn't been on top of him. "Morning, Jake. How are things?"

"Painful," he said, are limbs suddenly regaining blood flow as we wrangled them apart. I don't recall trying to make any human origami last night, but that seems to be what had happened. I call this one: Two Teenage Werewolves in Forest.

"Fun getting there, though."

"Oh, definitely. But we'll be sore for a half-hour or so."

"Thank God for werewolf healing."

"I wonder what time it is?"

Stretching out my kinks, "Probably late enough that Seth and Quil are getting concerned." Work, legs, work! You've not failed me before. Don't start now.

"Why did we take morning shift again?"

"Because we're a pair of idiots whose combined common sense couldn't buy a rotting dingo's kidney from a beggar in Bangkok."

"Hmm... Where's that? My mind's not working at the moment, and I keep on thinking Connecticut. I think that's wrong."

"Thailand, I think."

"I could really go for some Thai food right now."

"Oh my God... that would be so great... too bad Esme's on her way to rustle up vampires in Europe. You think Kate can cook? 'Cause I think I'm a lost cause."

"Wait," he groaned, looking very sleepy, "you mean that wasn't a dream?"

"Me trying to bake you a cake? No, that was months ago. You hit your head or-?" Carlisle was gone. Who else knew how to patch up injured werewolves? I mean, even Emmett was a vet/electrician/artist/priest. He could bandage Jake... or exorcise him, as the case may be. Are there any lingering spirits in these woods? If the evil producers aren't going to give me cancer, they're either going to possess my boyfriend or kill me off at the end of the season. Stupid producers. Must find out who they are, destroy them, and destroy all tapes of my fucked up life.

"No, I mean Irina deciding to ruin our lives."

"Unless we had the same dream... Which I doubt, unless we phased and phased back while asleep."

"Damn. I was kinda hoping it was one of your weird ass dreams."

"Were there any rainbow-coloured wolves in the dream?" I asked curiously, phasing as I did so. Seth, Quil?

There you guys are.

Sorry, we... overslept.

Good. I'm exhausted. Night, said Seth. Quil was already gone.

Jake joined me, telling me the only wolves he'd seen had been normal coloured, I corrected Seth, It's morning, idiot.

Whatever, he said, phasing out.

Why is my brother an idiot?

I dunno. Why would you dream of multicoloured werewolves?

Usually do.

Er... this may be a stupid question, but why?

Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. Or possibly an unconscious obsession with jello. I'm not sure. At least they weren't selling bridal magazines this time.

They do that often?

Once or twice. It's kinda weird, actually, I told him as we found the border and started running, me north, him south. I mean, why would wolves need to sell magazines for their school fundraiser? Why not loose teeth or antlers or something? Or pine cones. I hear there's a big eBay market for pine cones. Especially Longleaf Pine pine cones. Not that there are any around here, but a pine cone's a pine cone to me.

Why bridal magazines?

I rolled my shoulders, stretching out a kink and shrugging at the same time. Patrolling could be kinda boring. Pine tree, pine tree, squirrel, pine tree. Like I know. I just live here.

It's your brain.

And you're talking in it, Almighty Alpha.

And don't you forget it.

My mind replayed a few scenes from last night. Particularly the ones that had given me kinks this morning. I don't think that's going to happen.

We ran in silence for a long time – until we passed each other on the first lap, actually, and I caused him to stumble as I sent him a picture of one of those selfsame memories. Then he spoke up again. Did you mean what you said last night?

Which part? I'd said a lot of stuff last night. I couldn't be forced to remember all of it. The part where you looked "drop dead sexy" in the elf costume? 'Cause that was a lie – though the look on your face was worth it.

No, I mean the Paul part.

The only think I could recall saying to Paul was that he was ugly and annoying and I was pissy. I didn't realize you were this insecure, Jake, but, yes, Paul is quite ugly compared to you – both as wolf and human. I mean, have you seen his fur? I teased, He's so copying mine. It's dreadfully embarrassing.

No. I could feel him rolling his eyes at me. And trying not to laugh. I meant the in-law part.

I think it's inevitable at this point Paul's going to marry Rachel. One day.

But you said you didn't want him to be your in-law.

So I did, I said, feeling stupidly girly as butterflies began to flutter in my stomach. Weren't butterflies supposed to be afraid of wolves or me or something? Go away, stupid flies – my cholesterol is high enough, I'm sure, without you. But why am I acting so girly, it's a valid question? If I had a sister, I wouldn't want Paul marrying her. So I don't want Paul to be my brother-in-law even if I did not have said sister that he might marry. Nor did Seth swing that way, I think, unless that stuff about Ruth Huntley was a real convoluted lie to make us think he doesn't... But, whatever. His question means nothing.

Would that be something you're interested in?

I think real hard about some other way I can interpret his sentence other then the one he meant it as. I fail spectacularly and have to resort to the truth, which makes me feel awkward and slightly light headed and a a weird mixture of anticipation and fear. I don't honestly know what I want him to say. I mean, what do I want? Sure, I've daydreamed about being Mrs. Jacob Black and my mind has created weird little scenes about that very thing happening and I fully intended at this point in my life spending the rest of my life with him and acknowledged that most people who did that sort of thing married, but was it was I wanted? Now?

Reasons why not: He's still in school.

Reasons why: He'll be graduating in May, which isn't that far away, and a five month engagement isn't odd by anyone's means.

More reasons not to: We're living at a lean-to, we have no income other then what the leeches sneak us, and a powerful group of spaghetti-eating blood-drinkers were on their way to kill the leeches that paid us and probably us as well.

More reasons why: Why not? We're already "making" a decent living now, why would being married be more expensive? And, for number three, a combination of Billy's "life is a cookie" idea and someone else's "eat, drink, and be merry," because, tomorrow, we might well die.

One more: Imprinting.

Stupid mind answer: Neither of us has done so yet. Why would we think we'd do so now?

Jake was waiting for an answer. He could sense my mental confusion – we were wolves, how could we not – but he didn't seem in any sort of rush. In fact, he seemed a bit confused himself. I cannot blame him. I mean, he is barely eighteen. Even on the Rez, people don't usually start talking about marriage at eighteen. They have trouble thinking about their futures at all, let alone somebody else's...

But, at my age, Mom was married. By the time she was twenty-three, I was born.

I... I began. I... I love you Jake. I love you so ridiculously much I'm surprised I have the energy to remember how to breathe, let alone anything else, when you're around. But I'm not the kind of girl people marry.

I'm not most people. The earnestness in his voice almost made me pause, but I kept on running, trying to concentrate on anything – pine tree, pine tree, rock, pine tree – other then the tempestuous thoughts raging in my mind. I'd gone between too many emotional extremes today to really understand what he was saying. Was he saying he'd be willing to marry me, one day? Or that he wanted to marry me, now? Or something else entirely? I couldn't tell. I wanted him to stop, just for a little while. Just long enough to give me some time to think.

I told Charlie about the Cullens, I told him instead. So he knows they're leeches now. I think he took it surprisingly well.

Really? Then, shaking himself, Please don't try to change the subject, Leah.

What is the subject? I mean – what are you saying? 'Cause hell if I know and, if you don't stop confusing me right this instant, I might have to hurt you.

He gave a lupine sigh. Leah.

Jake.

I'm the Alpha, right?

Oh yes, your Royal Russet-ness, I snorted. True heir of Ephraim Black. Chief of the Quiluetes and whatnot.

But I am Alpha.

And I am Beta. I really didn't see where he was going with this. What did him being Alpha have to do with me telling Charlie about vampires? Did he not want me to or something? Well, he'd told them about us, I was just filling in the details, really. Like why there were werewolves in La Push. Though, now that I think of it, I didn't explain that little bit to him... oh well.

I don't want you to be Beta any more.

Shit-faced, cockatoo-fucking hell! Why? Just because I told-

No- I mean- God damn it all, Leah-! he tried again.

I snapped back, What, Jake? as sharply as only someone who's slept with the insultee can do.

I want you to be Alpha female. It's a promotion! We can make Quil Beta and-

What, you mean like, officially?

Yeah.

And what would 'officially' entail?

Whatever you want. Whatever it takes to let them (but he said it in such a way that it sounded like he'd started to say "him," by which he could only mean Sam) know you're mine, and I'm yours, and whatever the fuck else.

And that started out so romantic too.

I won't lie to you, he said in his serious voice. It'd probably mean a lot of sex. Some make-out sessions. The occasional attempt to cook if the world ends and we're the last to people left on earth, and I'm dying of myxomatosis.

I'm fairly certain that effects only rabbits.

In that case, scratch off the cooking. What do you think? You up to the job? He started sounding excited. Like happy excited, like he thought I was going to say yes.

Well, amazingly for him, I think I was too. Fine, I said, not entirely sure what I was agreeing to, besides more sex with Jake (which I would have been an idiot to say no to) and more make-out sessions and the possibility of cooking if we ever changed to were-rabbits. But, I said sharply, I want a crown.

Done.

I'm fairly sure Jake was skipping throughout the rest of our patrol. I'm not sure though, 'cause I've no idea what a skipping werewolf looks like. But I imagine it'd look quite a lot like he did at the moment. If we were doing a musical episode of my life, I'm fully prepared to believe he would have started singing.


	16. Papa

"Anyone who clings to the historically untrue – and thoroughly immoral – doctrine that  
'violence never solves anything' I would advise to conjure up the ghosts of Napoleon Bonaparte and  
the Duke of Wellington and let them debate it. The ghost of Hitler could referee, and the jury might  
well be the Dodo, the Great Auk, and the Passenger Pigeon. Violence, naked force, has settled more  
issues in history than has any other factor, and the contrary opinion is wishful thinking at its worst.  
Breeds that forget this basic truth have always paid for it with their lives and freedoms."

Lt. Col. Jean V. Dubois (Ret.) in Robert Heinlein's Starship Troopers

* * *

Five days after the majority of the blood-drinking parasites left, the phone rang. Twice.

Alice and Jasper had found some old friends of his somewhere in Mexico, and were sending them here. Rose and Emmett had come across one of the North American nomads in Wyoming – Mary, I think her name was – and she'd agreed to come to the manor and see what the big deal was.

All three were of the traditional child-of-the-night, I-want-to-suck-your-blood variety. And they were coming to Forks. Today.

Which was why I had to play babysitter. Again.

"Urgh! Why do I have to do it? Why can't Seth do it? Or Bella? Or, hell, we send the kid out into the forest to play by herself. If she's studying the Kabbalah in ancient Hebrew while watching C-Span," (which she was, having decided to make a study of world religions, and intensely interested in the democratic process in the Senate, saying that it was a most interesting combination of 'persons, elected by the people, at the farthest position from direct responsibility to the people' blah blah blah. She was like three-months old. I could vote, but was just glad the process worked somehow), "then I think she can take care of herself in the forest for a few hours."

But they pulled out the bullet-proof car, placed a car seat in the passenger side, and strapped me in, telling me they'd call after they explained the situation to Peter, Charlotte, and Mary and it was safe to come home. Yes, they said home. As in the manor, not my mother's house.

"Oh, it'll be fun," said Jake, as he buckled Nessie into the seat next to me. "You can go to the border, wait for one of Sam's pack to come around, and tell them about all the guests we're going to be getting now that we know we're going to be getting them."

"But why me? Why not you? Nessie likes you too, don't you Ness?"

"I like Uncle Jake very much," said the I-shouldn't-look-like-I'm-a-toddler monster, "he is very furry and makes Aunt Leah smile."

"See?" I said. "She likes you. You like cars. This is a nice car. It works out for everyone."

Jake came over to my side of the car, kissed my cheek through the open window, and said, "The burdens of being Alpha never cease. And, if it turns out the Cullens' 'friends' don't like werewolves very much, I'd rather it be me getting mauled."

"How sweet... and very annoying. You said it'd just be more sex when you promoted me-"

Slightly aghast, "Lee! There's a baby in the car."

"So? The kid knows everything already, I'm sure she knows why there are so many beds in that house when she's the only one who sleeps. But, as I was saying, you never said anything about babysitting. Or having to talk to Sam's pack."

"You can yell at them if you like."

I huffed. "Okay. Fine. But I hate you very much right now. And you still haven't got me a crown."

"Next time I'm in Port Angeles, I'll pick you one up from Burger King-"

I stomped on the gas then and flew down the driveway, hopefully running over his toes in the process. He deserved it. And they'd heal fairly quickly anyway. But still. It was the first time since our little "talk" in the forest that we'd spoken of me being Alpha female, whatever it meant, and I still had no idea what it did mean other then a fun new title to shake in Seth's face, not that I'd had the chance."Stupid, God-cursed, son of a female dog and an onion..." I said through gritted teeth, my anger only fading when Nessie asked, "Why is it you'll mention sex in front of me, Aunt Leah, but won't curse?" I banged my head on the steering wheel instead and the little metal logo-thing on it poked me. "Ow." Stupid car. Stupid vampires. Stupid Jake. Stupid Sam.

"I think you have misplaced anger issues, Aunt Leah."

"No shit, Sherlock. Thought it's far from misplaced."

"Whatever you say. Can we go to the park after you shout at the other pack?" She said this so innocently that it seemed ridiculous to imagine she was going to be the death of us all if the Cullens couldn't find anyone other then these three nomads.

With a sigh, I agreed, and pulled off the road and drove the car into the forest about half-mile, until the brush got too thick or the river too near. But, if I was going to confront Sam's pack, it was probably best we didn't do it on the road where anyone could drive by and see giant wolves arguing next to a baby and a parked car. Turning off the engine, I looked at the girl who would soon be my niece and, with another sigh, pulled out the iPhone. I dialled Sam's number.

Emily picked up. "Hello?"

"Hi, Em," I said with as much politeness as I dared. She was my cousin. She was once my friend. She didn't mean to ruin my life. She had every right to be happy. I was happier now with Jake anyway. She loved Sam. I should hate her for doing everything to me, but I couldn't. It wasn't her fault Sam imprinted on her. It wasn't her fault that what she needed was a lover, not a brother or a friend. It was Sam's he imprinted on her. It was his he didn't fight it. It was his that he was such a jerk about it after, when we were all one pack. It was his that I couldn't be enough for him... But I had Jake now, and I was happy and in love and Alpha female, whatever that meant, and was supposed to be telling the other pack we were having more vampire visitors.

"Wish her Merry Christmas."

I glared at the small child who was now climbing out of her child seat and into the back. There were built in CD/DVD players in the seats, and a decent-sized collection of Disney and Plant Earth DVDs in the arm rest. It figured the latter was kinda like the vampire version of cooking shows. But oh well. "Er, merry belated Christmas. Sorry for ruining your dinner and all that."

"You didn't ruin it," she says honestly. By the background sounds I'm sure she doesn't think I can hear, I can tell she's cooking. Probably her stupid muffins again. If I could cook muffins too, I'm sure everyone would love me... "We were just finishing when Jared sent Colin to tell Sam."

"Er, that's good."

"But I'm so glad you called."

That's surprising. "Are you?"

"Yes," her voice went high and squeaky, like she was excited about something. It rang in my ears like a dog whistle, and I wondered if Sam had ever told her how annoying that was, or if he liked it. He might – Sam was always a little weird that way. I mean, I was half certain he liked the Jonas Brothers and Miley Cyrus, and hadn't hummed them in his head while we were all one big happy back just because they were on the radio and catchy... "Sam and I finally set a date!"

It took me a moment to process this and then, "About time!" Even if they both were the largest jerks in the world, it was hard not to be happy for her. They had, after all, only been engaged for about two years. "When is it?"

"March. March 23rd. Oh, there's so much to plan and do. You'll help me, right?"

"Er..."

"The boys are just being boys right now; they'll get over this 'don't come onto each other's land' thing son and you'll be able to come onto the Rez again. Aunt Sue's been missing you a since you left..."

Yeah. Right. I bet she was delighted to have her teenage werewolf children out of the house so she could hang out with her boyfriend/fiancé (had Charlie even asked her yet? I remember him talking to Bella about looking for a ring, but had they found one already? Had he asked her without one? I'll have to figure that out one day). As well, it wasn't like she didn't know where to come and visit Seth and me... But that's water under the bridge. A mouldy, rotten, never-the-most-well-built bridge on a fault zone... but under it none the less. "Actually, Em, that's why I called... I kinda need to talk to Sam or Jared. Pack business and all that. Kinda important. Can you send one of them my way?"

"Sure... Sam's just in the living room. Where are you?"

"The boundary line, about half-mile south of the one-ten. He'll know what I mean."

I heard her tell Sam in the background. I looked back at Nessie, who was intently watching what appeared to be the mountain-themed episode of Planet Earth. She gave me a thumbs-up and asked if I could pass her the bag Bella'd packed. I did, and she pulled out a bag of gummy bears. Seeing my look, she poured a handful into my hand and went back to her video. "He says he'll be there in ten minutes."

The boundary between the Cullens'/our land and Sam's (here after to be known, respectively, as our territory and the La Push Pack's territory) falls roughly eight miles from La Push proper and five miles from the town centre of Forks. It bends north-west for fifteen miles to the middle of Lake Ozette and south-west to the mouth of the Hoh River. The leeches – and for the moment our pack (to be called, for convenience, the Olympic coven and pack) – has the stretch of land from the border east to the Olympic National Park, and between Beaver and the head of the Hoh River. We go around their land, they don't go to ours. It works like that. Conveniently, the someone in modern times built the Goodman Mainline Road right across the one-ten, and it falls in so near the right place La Push gave up three feet to make it perfect. Driving a half-mile south of it brought me almost to the Quillayute River. Sam couldn't miss me, even if I didn't have an exotic Mercedes parked some distance from any formal road.

I dragged Nessie and the gummy bears from the back seat and sat, munching them with her on the hood of her father's million-dollar car. "Hey Sam," I called out to the wolves I could hear running my way, "and, let me guess, Jared?"

They paused and walked out to the car before I could see either, but it didn't matter. "Oh, you brought Paul? I would've though he was do busy trying – and failing – to diddle Rachel, but I guess you must have been giving him tips – on the failing part, that is, so that he'd know what not to do." I slid off the hood, unconcerned about how much of my leg was revealed when my dress slid up, and handed the gummy bears back to Nessie, and asked if her mom had packed any fruit roll-ups.

"No, but we have pudding cups and juice boxes."

"What kinds?"

"Grape, fruit punch, apple-"

"Chuck me an apple, will you?"

As I stuck the straw through the little tinfoil hole in the juice box, I noticed box boys looking at me oddly. "You're not," Paul said slowly, his brains obviously the only one working before ten o'clock in the morning, "pregnant or anything, are you?"

I burst into laughter. "You guys," I managed through chortles, "are idiots. I mean," I tried to catch my breath, "why would I tell you if I was?" Which I'm not. I mean, I'd my period only what? Two weeks ago? I wouldn't even know if I was. Which I'm not. Unless werewolf cubs grow super-fast, like half-vampire ones... And now I'm freaking myself out needlessly. "I'm a werewolf. I'm hungry. God." I took a sip of the apple juice. Tasted like cardboard and sugar, but it was still pretty good. I'll have to make sure to get more of those.

"Em said you had pack things to discuss. I assume it's about that female vampire who ran through here on Christmas?"

"Irina," I nodded.

"Whatever. What about her?"

"Why in such a rush, Uley? Is it just habit, or do you just have no manners at all?" I sucked on the straw, being real sure that it made that annoying sound straws make when what they're in is empty as loud as it could, and watched as he figured out my insult. Seeing all those wheels turning in his head was a rarity, though hardly a treat. "Anyway, the Cullens have this plan to deal with the fallout of your incompetence."

"And that involves The Spawn being on the border how?"

"Nessie's not that bad. Except when she's trying to explain the Fermi Paradox."

"It's a serious question," Nessie said in her prim and proper way, opening a juice box for herself. "If the universe is about fourteen billion years old and contains a multitude of Earth-like planets, then we should be able to detect signs of extraterrestrial existence, such as probes or radio signals. Since we do not, either Hanson's idea of the Great Filter is correct, and humans are relatively unique, or it is the nature of intelligence to destroy..." Nessie noticed at me glaring at her, and gave me a small "I'm sorry Aunt Leah" smile as she stopped.

"Like I said," turning back to the boys, "She's mostly not that bad. Better then Kate anyway. Can't look at a banana any more with feeling sick... But Nessie being here's just temporary. I'm babysitting. And no," I turned my glare on Paul, who was snickering, "It's not that funny."

"Yes it is. You've turned into such a girl-"

I threw the empty juice carton at him. "Funny, last I checked, I was a girl. I've even had Jake confirm it for me, in case I was confused that day. What's your excuse? Rachel decide she'd rather do a girl then your sorry little ass, or couldn't she tell the difference?"

"We don't need to-"

"Of course we need to fight, Sam! You, for one, are a giant douche-bag. One giant, six-foot-something bag of expired douche. Nice of you to finally set a date with Emily after all this time, too. You've only been engaged for how long? Since a month – two at the max – after we broke up?" (more like six, but still), "What did you do? Knock her up? I don't think you've got her up a pole – she didn't mention it over the phone – but, then again, she might just expect I already know. After all, we're cousins. And you, Paul, we'll, there's so much I could say to you about letting yourself imprint on Rachel, but it's just too obvious for me to even bother wasting words on it.

"So I'm just here to tell you the Cullens' plan to keep us from all being killed, which Jake thought you might like to hear."

Paul snorted. "What are you then, his bitch? Tell-"

"Language, Paul!" I gestured at Nessie. "I don't want her ending up with a mouth like yours. And I'm nobody's bitch," I said, not caring that I'd just yelled at Paul for that very word, "I'm Alpha female," whatever the hell that means. I honestly just thought he was having me tell the La Push wolves 'cause he didn't want to have to explain to Emily why he killed her fiancé, "and you're not, so you can just run off and blow yourself. If you can find anything to blow."

"I-"

I turned back to Sam. I was pleased to see that he wasn't – pleased to see that I'd been promoted, whatever that meant. Some kind of werewolf engagement? Common-law wolf marriage? Vice-president? Who knew? I as happy, he was happy, whatever we each thought was going on. All I knew is that I wanted a better crown then the cardboard one I'd been promised. I'm sure the Cullens had one in their basement and, if not, the Denali clan had to have one after all the time they spent doing various members of royal houses. "Anyway, we're having people over to prove to the Volturi that Nessie grows and all that. Nomads. The few other covens that exist. They're not veggies-"

"What-!"

"But," I said loudly, "Edward and Kate are going to force them to eat out of the state, at the very least, or use bagged blood, or go veggie for a while. No one from Forks, or La Push, or anywhere nearby is going to get hurt if we can help it-"

"This is the most dangerous-!"

"It's the only thing we can do! Either this, or they're going to kill Nessie and-"

Stepping forward, to the very edge of the boundary, "Well, maybe she should be!"

I jumped backwards, grabbing Nessie from her perch on the car hood and holding her close to me. I don't care if she was soon-to-be-idiot-in-law's daughter, or if her father was a cheap popcicle. She was just a baby, and a cute, if somewhat annoying, one at that who called me Aunt Leah and shared her juice boxes with me. I clutched her to my right side, one of my (dare I say 'subtly muscled'?) arms wrapped around her more squishable parts of her while her little white arms clung to my mud-streaked dress. I held my other out, curved like claws, as I crouched down protectively. Very cooly, I might add, looking nothing like anything from West Side Story. "You so much as touch the air she's breathing and I'm gonna beat you so bad your granddad's going to be spinning in his grave."

"You've gone insane!" Sam tried to insist to me, in a half-crouch himself. I think even the stubbly hairs of his five-o'clock-shadow were trying to stand on end. "She's a vampire and-"

"Half a vampire. Meaning she's half human," I my own voice going low as hint of a growl slipped into it.

A snarled came from his own, "She's a vampire and needs to be destroyed, just like the others. I told you they were dangerous. I told you-"

"And I told you to stay out of my fucking business, Uley! You try to hurt this child and you won't live to regret it. Even Paul thinks you're being stupid, which is something. We're just trying to-"

"You know what will happen if the Volturi come."

"They'll come either way now, whether or not Nessie's alive. The Cullens are-"

"Are you their pets now, Leah?"

"Will you stop the mule-shitting whale-ass interrupting me!"

Paul was staying back, half-crouched himself, but looking like he didn't want this fight. And it was Paul we were talking about. It might only have been because Rachel would have locked him out of her pants for a month if she heard he'd been beating on her brother's girlfriend, but still. At least he was behaving smart. Unlike Sam. I was all the way crouching down now, my free hand supporting some of my weight as I remained poised on the balls of my feet. Sam was only a head above me, and Nessie was scooting around to clutch onto my stomach, to free my other hand too. Smart kid. Annoying, but smart. "You're putting all of La Push in danger over a vampire!" he hissed through clenched teeth and, unconsciously I think, stepped menacingly towards me.

It was enough though. He crossed the border, and before I could even think another thought, those damned maternal or animal or whatever the hell they were instincts kicked in and I was phased, exploding out of my clothes as Nessie scrambled to hold onto my belly-fur and clawing at the first part of Sam I could reach.


	17. Quebec

"War is an ugly thing, but not the ugliest of things. The decayed and degraded state of  
moral and patriotic feeling which thinks that nothing is worth war is much worse. The person who has  
nothing for which he is willing to fight, nothing which is more important than his own personal safety,  
is a miserable creature and has no chance of being free unless made and kept so by the  
exertions of better men than himself."

John Stewart Mill "The Contest in America"

 

* * *

I felt my claws run across his human face, - leaving four parallel bleeding wounds from the edge of his left eye to the right edge of his chin – and jumped back before he could phase, edging backwards with my belly low to the ground, so as to keep my charge from getting hurt.

Embry, I called, Jake and I having switched our morning shift to Embry's afternoon one for the day, how close are you to Goldman Mainline and the one-ten?

About twenty, thirty minutes. I'm by the Soleduck River. Why?

Sam was phased now, blood staining his already healing muzzle, and turned tail and ran, hoping they wouldn't be stupid enough to follow me into our Olympic territory. Oh, nothing much, but Sam seems to have decided that the best way to keep the Volturi from killing us is to kill Nessie first. If I could run fast enough, I could be in Forks in ten minutes. I could phase and run naked through the streets... which would get me attention, which two giant wolves following me would not like. It wasn't like I could fight with Nessie clinging to me, could I?

I ran due east, and, as soon as Sam was out of sight stood on my back legs as high as I could go against a tree... Nessie seemed to get the message, and using her crazy half-vampire strength, was able to haul herself up into the higher branches by the time my forepaws were back on the ground. Oh please oh please oh please God, let her be safe, I think I prayed, galloping off in the direction from which I came, meeting Sam around the next bend and charging at him.

We flew at each other, jumping and meeting each other like grapplers or... or Morpheus and Neo in that scene from The Matrix. The one after that really cool shooting scene in the lobby, with the tinkling of the falling shells as the hit the marble... Snarling at each other, we crashed in a heap of black and grey fur, my forepaws going around his neck as I pulled his head closer to mine, trying to bite through the thick muscle there as I pushed and pressed forward with all the strength my legs would give me. Sam was trying to do the same, though the way I held his neck made it hard for him to bite at mine.

I could have made it, honestly I could of, if this stupid "sexual dimorphism" thing hadn't shown its true colours. I am the smallest wolf in the packs and, as human, stand six-feet even. Jake, the true Alpha, is six-foot-seven and the tallest of us. But Sam is an Alpha too... and easily six-and-a-half feet. It really makes a difference when we're wolves, and where my legs were stretched to the max keeping me tall enough to reach his neck, his were not, giving him the extra power needed to push me backwards with his forepaws.

I landed hard on my back, the thin layer of unmelted snow on the ground doing nothing to cushion the fallen sticks and pine cones that were concealed beneath. Working through the pain, I struggled to right myself, knowing that it would soon pass and, even if it didn't, it didn't matter. Nessie was a cub, of sorts, and even if she wasn't mine she needed to be protected. I couldn't let her be murdered by my ex-boyfriend. That would not only totally suck, but start a fight between the La Push Pack and the Olympic that we could not afford right now.

Sam was too fast, though, and was pinning me down before I'd managed to twist around. With his front legs on one side of me and his hind ones on the other, he was doing the best version of a straddle that a wolf could do. His neck twisted severely to one side, and his hackles were all on end. I imagine mine would be too, if they weren't pressed into the light dusting of snow on the ground... Shit shit shit shit, I thought. In the background I could hear Embry rushing straight for me, not daring to head towards the manor for backup out of lack of time and worry about ruining everything with whatever vampires happened to have made it there by now. He'd crossed the Soleduck about five miles north of Forks, and the one-oh-one, but he was still too far to be here soon. His thoughts were an echo of my own, Shit shit shit shit, and I couldn't help but thinking how I kinda liked Embry, and what a shame it was I thought his dad was Sam's dad too. Stupid philandering male. Embry didn't deserve to be related to this dick-head trying to rip out my throat.

Speaking of my throat, it didn't deserve to be ripped out by Sam either.

The good thing I discovered, though, about Sam being so tall was that it gave me a good foot, eighteen inches of space between my soft squishy parts and his, wherein I could, with an odd stretching of my back and twisting of my hips, I could get my back paws under, scratching at his guts while my forepaws whacked at his muzzle. There was more blood across his face, and fresh, and I could feel the sticky liquid drying on my muzzle as well, but I didn't know if it was his from where I'd bitten him or mine from some injury he'd given me and adrenaline had yet to let me feel.

Neither of us was showing any signs of submission. I'm beginning to wish I'd gone with my flight instinct and ran for Forks, phasing and running through town shouting, "He's trying to kill my baby," until someone was kind enough to take me to the police station... Stupid me. Stupid Sam. Stupid Jake for thinking babysitting Nessie and "visiting" Sam were a good combination. Stupid me for listening to him. Stupid Sam for making us lose Irina in the first place. Stupid Bella and stupid Edward for having Nessie; looks like they win the stupid contest for today.

Still, somehow, I manage to get my legs bent enough to scratch at his stomach, and its either surprise that his soft parts are being attacked or actual pain that causes him to stop snapping at my neck and pull back long enough for me to twist around and get my feet under me. Then I pushed up and...

Well, he didn't exactly fall away, but he slipped off, nearly grabbing my flank in a retaliation bite. We circled each other for a few minutes, growling, and making snaps at each other while waiting for an opening. You're going to get us all killed if you keep this up, I told him, knowing he couldn't hear me. It looked like he was doing something similar in his own head. You think you're so fucking high and mighty, Sam "Sucks Dick" Uley? Well, let me fucking tell you something, you elephant-raping, pig-pinching fish-seller: sometimes you're wrong. You were wrong to try and be Alpha. You were wrong to force us into having to have two packs. You're wrong to want to kill an innocent baby. I don't know what the mother-fucking hell it is with you, whether you're just trying to hold onto your "power" or you really are this stupid, but you've got to fucking STOP IT you tire-biting, pimple-popping, glue-sniffing-

I paused there, because I'd noticed the moment I'd said "stop it," or, rather, thought it, Sam had stopped. Like completely. Like "Alpha Command" completely.

Never one to look a gift wolf in the mouth, I trotted over to him and kicked some snow in his face, just to see if he was pretending. He wasn't. So I spun around and went to the tree I'd left Nessie in. Thank God Paul hadn't found her – God knows if Paul had even phased at all; he hadn't looked like he was going to earlier. She was safe and unharmed and clung to my back as I took the long way around back to the car. There was no sign of either Paul or Sam there.

Phasing, I jumped in the car and locked the doors, glad that I'd left the keys in the ignition. I, of course, at this point was naked – probably something Edward had never intended when he'd lent me his leather-interiored, multi-millionaire's let's-take-a-drive-through-Jerusalem-or-Baghdad-why-don't-we Mercedes – and covered in blood, – something Edward-o had probably taken consideration, what with his own diet, and had had the seats scotch-guarded, - God knows how much of it my own. But I didn't care. I was alive. Go me.

Nessie, despite my protests, didn't strap herself into her car seat as I backed out of the, er, clearly at fifty miles an hour and U-turned, tires burning, back into the heart of our Olympic land, going an easy eighty down the one-ten.

"I did not save you from Sam just to let you be killed by my get-away driving. So sit your ass down and try not to get a concussion."

She merely threw a packet of alcohol wipes into the car seat and continued rummaging around in varying pockets, bags, and compartments I'd not even begun to guess might exist. "Is it always like this when werewolves get together, or only when members of two different packs meet?" I saw her open a emergency kit in the rear-view mirror, pull out a bottle of water and a towel, and toss it into the passenger seat as well.

"Sam's a fly-hopping, condom-eating, pansy-footed ass who couldn't tell the difference between his ass and the foot up it if you gave him an hour and a crib sheet."

"I see," she said calmly, shaking a quilted jacket out of what had to be the world's tiniest vacuum bags. "Why did you date him then?"

And now, I thought, doing such a sharp right onto the one-oh-one I was surprised we didn't go on two wheels, I'm discussing my love life with an infant. "I dunno," I said anyway, "I was young and naïve and didn't know any better and just wanted a boyfriend and he asked, God knows why."

"Why didn't you just start out dating Uncle Jake then?"

Already we were passing Tillicum Park. I had to force myself to ease up on the gas and go the speed limit so Charlie wouldn't come out of nowhere and have to arrest his almost stepdaughter for speeding... That gave me an idea. "I dunno, Ness. I know it's hard for you to understand, your family being immortal and born decades or centuries apart and all that, but three years can be a lot for us mere mortals. When I started wanting to date, Jake was still in middle school... and he was my best friends' little brother... and we were too alike then, I think. Or I dunno what. It just took until we were both wolves, I think, and knew what each other was really thinking..." I couldn't believe I really was having this conversation with a pseudo-two-year-old. "I guess it just wasn't the right time, or we weren't ready, or something like that."

"Oh," Nessie said, sitting on the back seat. I could see spots of blood drying on her face and clothes from here, but I knew it wasn't hers. She was sitting to calmly, even for a baby genius like her, to be injured. "Aunt Leah?"

Somewhat distractedly, "Yeah?" I was trying to remember where the police station was. I chose left on Division street and was rewarded with the sight of the City of Forks Administrative Offices, Local Court, and Police Department. I was beginning to draw stares too... not because anyone could see the expensive Mercedes' nude driver, i.e. me, but because of the expensive Mercedes itself. I was beginning to come down off my adrenaline high too and was feeling more than a little sick – like weak, I mean, and ready to throw up all my gummy bears.

"Do you think I'll ever find somebody? Someone like Uncle Jake is to you, or Daddy is to Mommy, or Grandpa Carlisle is to Grandma Esme?"

I could have pointed out to her that she was only three months old, but what was the point when she was growing faster then a fungal infection and had read more books than I'd probably read in my entire life? "I can't honestly say what might happen, Nessie dear," I told her as I ripped open one of the alcohol wipes and adjusted the rear-view mirror to see my own face reflected in it. "But it's not impossible. Not all guys out there are like Sam; some of them have brains – at least brains enough to think with something other then their dicks a good portion of the time – and some of those are worth the time. Maybe you'll find someone. I dunno. Even your idiot father did, in time.

"But I thought you were refusing to think on the future. And I'm pretty sure boys, for you, fall in the future."

"I think it is all the talk of weddings that is making me wonder about it. Sam and Emily, your mother and Grandpa Charlie; you and Uncle Jake, one day – it just seems to me very sad. I am the only one of my species that we know of... Or maybe I'm not a species at all, just a some sort of hybrid, like a mule or a hinny..."

I balled up the used towelette and shoved it under the seat before turning to look at Nessie. She looked very young – not two-year-old young, but just young – and vulnerable. I pulled on the jacket she'd found for me and motioned for her to climb into the front. Dabbing her face with another alcohol wipe, I told her, "If there is one thing I've learned in my life," short of the creepy things you can do with various items of fruit and how boys are stupid, "it's this, so listen closely: it doesn't matter what you are – werewolf, vampire, human, or something in between. None of it matters, so long as you're happy."

"Are you happy, Aunt Leah?" her voice was small. I pulled her into my arms and stepped out of the car, glad the jacket she'd found went almost to my knees, even if I had to look idiotic. At least I'd gotten the worst of the blood off of us, and the collar hid what looked like choke-marks around my neck.

It was hard to believe I'd ever could be this happy, excepting the recent run-in with Sam and all, but I was. "Let's go find your grandpa."

Turns out, though, that when a girl who looks like she might've been a victim of domestic violence comes in with a baby and asks the receptionist to point her in the direction of the Chief of Police, people don't give you a hard time about how you're dressed. Surprised the hell out of Charlie, though, me walking into his office after he'd been "informed" via a phone call I'm sure the old woman at the desk didn't realize I could hear that there was a "possible 273-D" heading his way. I guessed the receptionist was also the local emergency dispatcher.

"Holy Crow," Charlie said, springing out of his chair and coming forward with this really worried look on his face. It took me a moment to place it, but it was a dad kind of worry, like that one Dad had on when he saw me kinda broken-looking after Sam dumped me, or when he taught me how to drive. He didn't even take one look at Nessie – that's how freaked out he was – and just guided me into his chair. I suppose he had every right to freak out, what with the bruises that were starting to yellow across my face and the rest he could see of me, and the spots of blood I was sure to have missed, matted in my hair and behind my ears. "What did that boy do to you?" Yep, defiantly dad-mode. "I don't care what he is, I'm to make him rue the day he put his hand to a girl." Rue? Rue? And I thought I'd been spending a lot of time around the leeches. "I always knew he had a temper, but this is just going too far... Where is Jake? What did he do to you?"

"Jake's at-" I began, and then realized what Charlie was saying. "God, Pops, Jake didn't do this to me."

"Tricia said it was a victim of domestic..." Then he sighed and stood up from where he'd been kneeling beside me, "I'm going to have to talk to her again about what she tells people."

I let out a small sigh and sink into his chair. It is nice and soft. "You can let go of me now, Aunt Leah," Nessie says, wiggling in my arms.

"Oh! Sorry Ness." I hadn't even realized I'd been holding her so tightly. Damn maternal instincts. I blame it on the periods. And all the sex. I'm pretty sure sex lets out some of the same hormones women are supposed to have post-partum. That, and I spend so much time around the leeches and she's the only one I really like – because she is cute and amusing, and a lot better for my sanity then Kate, even if she's a talking baby – and she seems, oddly enough, to like me the most of the pack. The other day, I was sleeping on the porch in wolf form, and she decided to curl up next to me and nap herself. The leeches have pictures of it, for blackmail, I'm sure.

"It's okay. It is just the oestrogen, chorionic gonadotriphin, and epinephrine coursing through your bloodstream. I understand," she told me honestly. I guess it was her way of saying "bizarre maternal instinct" as well. Then she turned to her grandfather, around whom she'd pretended to be a perfectly normal, albeit precocious, toddler, and now who was reeling a bit from seeing said toddler saying things like "gonadotriphin" and whatnot. "Hi Grandpa Charlie."

Charlie sank into the nearest chair. I couldn't blame him. "Half-vampire?" he asked me weakly.

Nessie nodded and climbed from my lap to his. "Yes. Daddy didn't turn Mommy until after I was born. I didn't mean to hurt her so much... but she was only human. Want to see?"

Nessie held up her hand and, hearing this, I sat up straight in the chair and said, "No! Ness, nobody wants to see that."

"Oh," she frowned. Then her smile came right back up. She was a lot like Seth that way – and, apparently, according to Kate, a young Phillip the Handsome, before his wife started dragging his wife around the country with her - "well then, never mind. But Mommy was really upset she had to lie to you, Grandpa. She loves you, but it was to keep her safe. The Volturi do not like humans knowing about our – well, their – existence."

Leaning back in the chair again, feeling the shakes come to muscles which had been over used and were healing too fast for my energy levels to keep up with, I added, "They have a tendency to kill people."

"I see," said Charlie slowly from his own seat.

"But it is okay, Grandpa Charlie. We won't let them find you when they come here. Grandpa Carlisle and Grandma Esme are getting all the Europeans that the Volturi don't get to first, and Aunt Rose and Aunt Alice and Uncle Emmett and Uncle Jasper are looking for American nomads and maybe the Amazonians, and the cousins are bringing the Egyptians and the Asians... The Egyptians and the Amazonians are very old – not near as old as the Volturi, but old enough that the nomads will listen to them if they believe... Most nomads don't end up living more then four or five hundred years before joining a coven or being killed..."

"I see," he said again.

"Ness, I think you're overwhelming him."

She frowned again, then hopped off his lap and smiled. Again. Brightly. "It is okay, Grandpa. Daddy will make it work, and he will get Peter and Charlotte and Mary to believe, and they will help with the others. Grandpa Carlisle has many friends and is well respected. The Volturi will not kill us. I think."

"If Sam doesn't try and kill us first," I mumbled.

That Charlie could understand. Police work, not the supernatural, was his business. "Sam Uley did this to you?"

"He wanted to kill Ness. I didn't want him to."

That gave him pause, and then, deeply, "Thank you for keeping my granddaughter safe. There's a shower in locker rooms... I'll see if I can rustle you up a change of clothes..."

"Thanks," I managed and stood, following after him to the indicated room. My stomach was telling me at the moment gummy bears and juice boxes were not the breakfasts of champions, or, at least, a full stomach was not to be fought on or attacked.

"Is this a typical day for you guys?"

I thought about it. "More or less. People our world really don't like your daughter." And, with that, I ducked into the shower room and threw up everything I had in my stomach and a little more.

Sam Uley must die.


	18. Romeo

"A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog,  
conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone,  
comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyse a new problem,  
pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insects."

Lazarus Long in Robert A. Heinlein's Time Enough For Love

* * *

"It's fucking scrambled eggs," I told child sitting at the table, reading some religious texts while she watched Sesame Street on the kitchen TV, "you whisk the eggs and pour on pan. You stir. They cook. How can I fucking be failing at making scrambled eggs?"

"Rubber Duckie," she sang, softly and perfectly in response, "you're the one. You make bath time lots of fun..."

"Are you determined to drive me mad, Nessie?"

She turned around and pouted at me. "I am going to read this," she indicated the Hebrew text in front of her, "and find something about people who constantly insult people, and then I will read it to you, and we'll see who's sorry then."

I rolled my eyes at the child and continued my attempt at making dinner. Edward, Bella, and Kate were busy talking with Peter and Charlotte, who turned out to be old chums of Jasper's, and Jake had offered to do our patrol alone after seeing how badly Sam had turn me (my neck still hurt, but the bruise was not nearly so bad now, and the others were who knows where. And I was hungry, so I was attempting to cook. It was not going well. "Oh, I'm so scared."

"You should be," Nessie told me. And then she unmuted the TV just in time to catch Elmo say something about the number of the day or friendship or something odd like that. Fucking strange child.

I continued to stir the runny concoction, annoyed to all belief that Esme just had to go and leave us like this. And for New Year's Eve too! I mean, what are we going to eat tonight? Or tomorrow? Bella can cook somewhat, but that seems to be limited to small quantities of fish and spaghetti that couldn't feed one werewolf, let alone five and a half-human. I'm half tempted to order take out. Or delivery... but I don't know if Peter or Charlotte or Mary is hungry enough to accidentally eat the delivery boy, so I don't.

There is a shadow in the door from the living room, and, when I turn, I see it is Charlotte. She is small and pixie-like – very much like Alice – but with bleach-blonde hair and the most disturbing red eyes I've ever seen.

Red eyes. Human-drinkers. Killers. Murderers.

"I believe, Lisa, that your attempt to cook might go bit better if you were to turn on the right burner."

"The name is Leah," I hissed at the her, looking down and realizing that, yes, I'd turned on the burner behind the one I was trying to use. Stupid contraption. Quickly, I corrected this and went back to glaring at the leech.

The hair on the back of my neck went on end as I caught the slight footfall coming in from the outside door: Mary, the Wampanoag Indian. She looked similar, in many ways, to Emily, but with more amygdaloid eyes of that deep, noxious blood-red. According to Kate, she'd been around since the Mayflower. "Tenga cuidado con el hombre lobo, Charlotte. ｿNo huele usted la indirecta de la leche?"she whispered, her voice low and deep. "Ella está con pequeños, y oigo que ellos se comportan como osos de madre cuando irritado, estos lobos."

Randomly, the southerner commented, "I've not been to a good bear-baiting in a while."

"You've never been to a bear-baiting at all, oshki-ikwe."

I put the hand without the spatula to my head and pressed hard, eyes closed. When I opened them again, both vampires were still there. For people who didn't eat and supposedly thought I smelled none too pleasant, they seemed to spend a lot of time in the kitchen (where I'd stayed since coming back from my, er, visit to Charlie, first icing my neck and, after that, trying to scrounge something to eat. It was after I'd run out of fruit roll-ups, apples, and wheat thins I'd been reduced to trying to cook), annoying me. It was the best place to hide from leeches inside their own house. Charlotte seemed fascinated with it, though why I don't know.

They were an interesting study in contrasts, what with Charlotte being only about as old as my grandmother, though looking about my age, with hiking clothes like Rose and Esme had been wearing when they'd left on, right down the to sturdy books. Mary – who'd introduced herself as Motuckquas, but everyone called Mary, probably because it was easier to say – was very much the opposite, wearing only a chequered dress that looked like it was made in the forties and completely barefoot; her dark blue-black hair was braided elaborately around her head. She also seemed less annoying. But, then again, she'd also made it a point to speak in English as little as possible. "Unless either of you know how to cook, will you kindly get out of my kitchen before I go postal on you?" This is not a zoo! You will not stand here and watch the world's only female werewolf like I'm some cheap exhibit on cows next to a slaughter-house. Not, I should point out, that I thought they wanted to eat me, smelling as I did to them, but I guess I'd the lingering scent of human – sweat, heat, metal – on me. Disturbing, and more then a little annoying.

Both the vampires and little Nessie looked at me strangely. I looked down at the eggs: they were burned beyond all recognition. I hadn't even noticed, so strong was the vampiric smell. Stupid vampires. Stupid eggs.

"Well, I don't see either of you trying. Some of us have to eat, and you smell disgusting, and I don't care if you fucked kings or are just fucking royal pains in the ass, but those are the rules."

"Mommy's not going to be happy you used that word in front of me."

"Your mommy, Nessie dearest, can fuck an ox for all I care." I scraped off the burnt offerings as best I could and set the pan in the sink to soak. Taking a fresh one out of the cabinet, I began to crack another dozen eggs. "Your auntie Leah is hungry, and, until I get fed, the French, it keeps coming."

She wrinkled her nose and turned up Big Bird, while Charlotte looked back at Mary and said, her own voice high and annoyingly tinkly, "Usted tiene razón; ellos se parecen a osos. El Cullens mantiene tales animales domésticos extraños."

Me, being me, spun and threw an egg at the perpetrator, who naturally caught it, having superhuman reflexes, but, being supernaturally hard, ended up with egg yolk all over her hands anyway. "I don't know what you said, but I caught the word 'animal' in there, and I don't like it."

My torture might have continued on indefinitely if Kate hadn't shown up and waved them out, though not before the Emily-impersonator vampire added, "I shall call you Kiwidinok," leading me to shout back, "I am not a fucking kiwi!" Apparently it meant "woman of the wind" in Chippewa, and she was calling me it because my emotions freaking every three changed seconds, but I didn't care. I was Quileute, she wasn't Chippewa, wherever the fuck they were from, and I was perfectly happy with my name. Now, if she knew Quileute, I might have been interested, 'cause like only The Elders and one of Old Quil's nephews still speak it. I suppose, one day, they'll "ask" us to learn it, but it's strange. I mean, there are like no nasal stops – m's and n's – at all in it. Though, knowing our luck, the Cullens know it, which really sucks, our mortal enemies being the only ones who know our language any more...

But my point being, I'm not a hyena-humping, ambulance-chasing, Jack-the-Ripper-wannabe like The Annoying Ones, and Kate, amazingly enough, saved me. Though I'm going to have to "accidentally" set Mary on fire if she doesn't stop this "we-may-be-from-different-tribes-and-different-species,-but-we're-both-Native-American-and-should-stick-together-by-me-giving-you-a-spirit-name-in-a-third-tribe's-language" thing. She drank human blood, I didn't, that's all I needed to know. And I "...know we need them as like backup or something, but they've been here less than five hours and I'm about ready to pry their ass-hatted, nose-warted, fungus-covered faces off and get the biggest fireworks I can find and shoot their asses to the moon!"

"I am curious," said Nessie, now watching the news and ignoring my shouting, "for true werewolves, ones that turn according to the phases of the moon, would they be 'cured,' so to speak, if sent to the moon? Would they still transform according to the phases of the moon as seen from Earth, or would they phase according to the phases of Earth? Or would they be permanently transformed into wolves, or into men?"

Kate and I blinked at her.

"Mommy and Daddy don't criticise me," the child said, sliding off the chair and heading for the living room and, presumably, her parents.

"When I was her age, my parents were still cooing over how cute I looked and cursing about all the nappies they had to change."

"When I was-"

To which Jake broke in, coming through the back door, "I'm sure Sue thought you were annoying then too." I knew it was him because he smelled so strongly of pine and earth and life, and his scent was a Godsend compared to the sharp, sugary smells of the vampires – and the coppery undertones of the nomads. And because none of the vampires slammed doors open like that, so that they crashed into the walls behind them.

"You don't understand. The vampires are calling me kiwi now and-" I had spun from my latest attempt at scrambled eggs (so far, so good) to look at him, "What the mother-fucking, giraffe-jumping hell happened to you!" Because, you see, Jake had scratches up and down his legs, a bite mark forming on one ankle, a few half-healed slashes across his back, and a rapidly yellowing black-eye. And then it dawned on me. I shouldn't have been so stupid as to let him go out alone, not right after Sam attacked me... "Jacob Isaiah Black!"

"Leah Jacqueline Clearwater!" he said right back, looking me straight in the eye with the silliest grin on his face – one that did nothing but make me more angry, obviously not its intended affect.

"Ekaternia Dobryninva!" Kate shouted, standing up from her chair. Both of us turned to look at her. "What? I thought we were playing the name game. I honestly don't see where we go from here, unless we want to start thinking of people with the same initials. Oh, or anagrams! We could do A Cabal Hijacks Bios and Cereal Wheel Art, if we... Not the name game, I see." She span her chair around and sat down astride it. "In that case, continue."

This, oddly enough, managed to calm me down somewhat. But only somewhat. "You were supposed to be patrolling."

"I switched with Quil," he said, brushing it off lightly. "Besides, Sam deserved it."

"I know he's an ass-eating, crow-juicing pumpkin-whore, but that doesn't mean you have to go around fighting him for-"

"He tried to KILL you, Leah!" He looked like was going to shout some more but, biting his lip, caught himself and said calmly enough that it surprised me, "I feel... very protective of you. The idea of someone hurting you, like Sam – no, especially Sam makes me so unbelievably angry it hurts, and I know it's ridiculous, because I know you love me, but it's just this..."

"Primal?" Kate offered from her seat, arms crossed across the back of it and her chin resting there.

"...primal, animalistic anger at the it all, and I think it's something of the Alpha that I can't control, but I had to fight him. I just had to – it was like I didn't have any other choice."

"He was would-be territorial claimant," she offered again, very scientifically. Stupid thousand-year-old vampire. Go the fuck away. Now.

"Shut up, Kate," I said. "And he didn't kill me. But he could have killed you. Nobody knew where you were, and then-!"

"Er... actually, the guys knew..."

"You told them but not me!"

"I didn't want you to worry!"

"Worry? You just didn't want me to kick your ass for going chivalrous on me."

"He couldn't help it," Kate said again, like some strange commentator I wanted to hit with my spatula, "it's his hormones and your pheromones. He smells like wet dog and testosterone, for God's sake. I'm sure it smells like sex to you, but I'm personally revolted. Between your milky smell and him, I'd be running out of the room if I didn't want to know how this was going to end. "

It was Jake's turn to shout at her, "Shut up. And I wasn't doing it to be chivalrous. I just wanted to beat him up."

Anger turning into sadness for no reason I could see, I turned back to my, once again, burnt eggs. I flung them into the sink with the rest and told him, doing my best to keep my voice steady, "I would have rather liked to do that myself." And I would have. If Nessie hadn't been there... Sam would have gone down. He would've had to limp home, and never would have been able to have puppies, so help me God if I lie.

"I know, Lee... but, just think, if I hadn't have gone today, you wouldn't have got to hear my wonderful tale."

"And what," I said, taking a seat next to Kate, who was watching us as one watched a sporting event, "would said 'wonderful tale' be?" Quickly, before I deny you any tail. For a week. However hard that might be on the both of us. Especially now – he looked hot when he got angry. It was a stupid thing to find attractive, but there was very little about Jake I found unattractive... and most of those involved socks he never wore any more anyway. Stupid hormones.

"Well, I went to Sam's place and just walked up and hit him while he was barbecuing – he didn't even see me coming – and shouted at him for a bit about being a jerk and attacking you – and Nessie – and then he phased so I phased and we'd only managed to get in a few swipes before Charlie arrived."

I leaned forward, "I told you somebody would call you in for dog-fighting one day."

"Oh, no he wasn't arresting Sam for that."

"He arrested Sam?" I started laughing. And I mean really laughing. "That's great. What for then?"

"You should've seen Charlie – he's starting to take this 'Clallam-County-is-filled-with-mythical-creatures' thing pretty well. He just got out of the cruiser, not pulling his gun or anything, yelled at us a couple times, and then blew a dog whistle."

"Where'd he get a dog whistle?"

"I dunno. Police issue?" Jake waves it off and takes the seat on Kate's other side, calming down a little. "Anyway, he does this and Sam and I just stop and he tells us to phase and, once we get on pants, he tells Sam he's under arrest for domestic battery."

"But-" my mind works furiously, and I lean further still, propping one elbow on the easily hundred-year-old text Nessie had been reading. I knew enough about the law to know that "domestic battery" and "domestic violence" were more or less the same thing. "Charlie arrested Sam over me?" I dropped the spatula to the table, realizing only then it'd been in my hand still.

"Yeah. He did. It was great. And then I asked Charlie to wait a minute so I could finish beating on Sam before he took him in, but I guess Charlie was in a mood, 'cause he arrested me then-"

"You got arrested!" I shouted. "And you didn't call me!"

"I'm getting to that part, Leah!" He shook his head. He was going to need a haircut soon, I noticed. "So, Charlie arrests us both – me for 'obstruction of justice', or something stupid like that – and drives us all the way to the police station, lecturing us about how behaving like men does not, apparently, involve fighting with people over every little thing. I tried to explain how, as werewolves, it did, but then he went on a spiel directed at Sam about how he didn't care if we healed at like nine times the speed of sound, you just don't go hitting girls, especially his future stepdaughter – by the way, he told us he asked your mom the other day."

"He didn't tell me."

"What do you say? 'Hey, your mom said yes, so I'm going to be doing her as your stepfather now. Nice talk'?"

"Is sex all you ever think about?"

"He's a-"

We both turned to Kate together this time and said, as loudly as we could, "SHUT UP!"

"Then we get booked and thrown in Forks one cell with some guy who started his New Year's toasting a little too early, which I guess is good, or else we might've phased and continued our early fight anyway, so we just yelled at each other for an hour or so before Charlie came back and gave us our phone calls – though you should've been there. I was telling Sam what a jerk he was, et cetera et cetera, and how if he'd any balls at all he'd hang himself by them, and he started giving reasons why you and I couldn't be together, and I told him what a jealous old cunt he was and should go back to knitting pink sweaters for Edward, his gay lover, 'cause I sooo knew they had something going on, and then he wanted to know how you were able to Alpha command him, and I explained the whole thing about how you'd agreed to marry me and-"

Kate let out a whooping cheer; I blinked a lot. I don't recall having gotten engaged, and I think it's the sort of thing I'd remember. "Er, when did that happen?"

Jake frowned. The vampire started laughing. It tinkled like glass and hurt my ears, her laughter. "Remember the other morning?"

"Which other morning?" I remembered quite a few of them... We'd fought over the last pop tart yesterday. Was it that he was talking about?

"The one where I asked you to be interested in getting married, and you said you weren't the kinda girl people married, and I said I wasn't most people and asked you to be Alpha female."

That's what he'd been asking? Wow. I... I don't know what to say. Honestly I don't. Do I go, "What?" again or do I do something else? I chose one of the something-else's. "You told me it was a fucking promotion-" Kate fell out of her chair. Both Jake and I ignored her, and would have ignored even that if it hadn't been so loud. "You don't freaking ask girls to marry you by telling them its a mother-fucking promotion."

"I'm fucking sorry, Leah!" he shouted right back at me, standing up, "I haven't exactly had that much experience with this sort of thing."

"It shows! I mean, I just thought – well, Hell, I don't know what I thought, but I wasn't thinking that."

"Don't you want to marry me?"

"Martha Stewart's pink pastel hell, I do, but-"

"Is that a fucking 'yes, I want to,' I do or a 'no way in fucking hell,' I do?"

"Yes, but you're still in school, and," I forgot some of my and's. I know there were several of them, and many of them were really good or, rather, at least not that bad. Hell if I could remember any of them though. He looked really hot, and there was a thin sheen of sweet on his skin that made it glisten deliciously, and Kate was right, he did smell like sex, and it was kinda cute, albeit annoying, he'd gone out and gotten arrested fighting for my honour. Mostly stupid, but still kinda cute.

"Well then, let's get married!" he shouted.

Shouting right back at him, "Well, now that you're being clear about it... Sure, why the hell not? - Only let's get one thing straight: I am not wearing some stupid-ass marshmallow dress!"

"Fine. Whatever. I'm not wearing suit then."

"Like they make suits in your size anyway? Next Halloween we just need to slap some green paint on you and can call you the jolly Green Giant."

"Ha. Ha. Ha. You're killing me with your humour. If neither of us are getting dressed up then," his voice getting closer to normal decibel range, "why bother having a ceremony at all?"

"Yeah. Let's skip out on the fucking fake arbour." I hated that fake arbour. It was the tackiest thing I'd ever seen, and I'd ruined my fingers enough wrapping flowers around it... and, Jake looked so sexy all Alpha-wolfy that it was kinda disgusting how I serious was thinking about the next three words that came out of my mouth: "Let's elope then." I think we were still so caught up in the energy of the moment... well, I don't know what, but when I next asked, "Seattle or Las Vegas?"

From the floor, trying (and failing) to pull herself up, "There's a wonderful Elvis-impersonator chapel on south Las Vegas Boulevard. If you take Edward's fast car, you can be there in-"

"The clerk of court was still open when I left Forks."

That was right. The courthouse and police station and fire department were all in that one little building, and they were probably staying open late to process all of the idiots out on New Year's Eve. "Well, alright then." And next thing I know, we're at the courthouse/police station/fire department. Not quite sure how that happened. I assumed we had taken Edward's fastest car, but I remember almost nothing of the car ride.

"Weren't you just in here this afternoon?" asked the clerk when the line got to us. I'd given to two guys behind us who didn't look drunk so much as singed for illegal fireworks fifties taken from our the-vampires-feel-so-sorry-for-us fund to be our witnesses.

"Yeah. The charges were dropped though. This time me and her," he said, pointing at me, "want to get married." An application for marriage license was produced and postdated (because the people at the Forks Courthouse are helpful, thinking we were just in a rush and wanted to do it on New Year's Eve rather then, oh, something else. If there was money exchanged, my werewolf eyes didn't see it)...

And then I was suddenly Mrs. Jacob Black, and not entirely sure how it had happened. I'm not entirely sure Jake knew what happened either.


	19. Sierra

"The illusion which man has that his will is free is so deeply rooted that I am ready to accept it.  
I act as though I were a free agent. But when an action is preformed it is clear that all forces of the  
universe from all eternity conspired to cause it, and nothing I could do could have prevented it.  
It was inevitable."

W. Somerset Maughum Of Human Bondage

* * *

"Hang on a second," I said as we got into the car and were pulling out of the lot. "What the monkey-fucking toe-chewing nostril-sucking penguin-pinching hell just happened?" I thought back over the last few minutes... I remembered us arguing... and I remembered paying the two guys who smelt least like Jack and Coke fifty bucks each to sign something...

He turned south on Forks Avenue, heading back to the Cullens' place. After about a mile, he turned left on what appeared to be a service road between Sportsman Club and Russell, but was really the ridiculously long driveway that wrapped behind Bogachiel State Park and stood on the edge of the Olympic National Forest... Quite simply, and with the most self-satisfied grin I'd seen on any guy outside of the post-coital, Jake told me, "We got married."

I thought about it for a moment. That would make sense, what with the paper in my hand telling me that exact same thing. I was just kinda hoping that was something my brain had made up after being poisoned by bad eggs. Now that he mentioned it, I remembered him asking, and me saying something about eloping... "Jake?"

"Yeah honey?"

"Please stop the car. And don't call me honey."

"Sure thing, poodle," he pulled the car to the side of the road and parked it, though.

I opened my door, "Don't call me poodle either. Or sugar, dear, or anything else that might come to your mind."

"Not even sex muffin?"

I rolled my eyes, slammed the door, and climbed into the back seat. "No."

"What are you doing in the back seat?" he asked after a moment.

"Waiting for you, of course."

The poor boy probably thought I wanted to "park" with him, and manoeuvred into the back fairly quickly. Once there, I turned to him with a sweet smile on my face and leaned in really close to his ear... before yelling, "WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING, BLACK?" This was accompanied by a large crack as well, caused when Jake had jumped backwards from my yelling and into the left-side door. I think it was the sound of the door pull falling off, but I'm not sure. It might've been the car frame itself. It was pretty dark, even for a Washington winter evening, and only the faintest light hit us. Only super-werewolf eyes helped me see the mask of confusion – and mild pain – clouding his features now.

"God-flapping damn, Leah, what was that for?"

I crossed my arms. "We, apparently, just got married, that's what it's for!"

"What's with the 'apparently'? You were there."

"I do a good job of repressing unpleasant things."

"So the guy wasn't an Elvis impersonator... We're heading back to a house full of vampires who can impersonate any dead singer from the last hundred years you want."

Trying to keep my calm and failing entirely, I punched him in the shoulder and, er, said, "This is NOT about Elvis."

"It's not?" Poor Jake looked generally confused. "Then what's it about? You said you wanted to-"

I put my face into my hands and took a deep breath. When I lowered them, I looked straight into his deep brown eyes – so dark that, especially now, you couldn't tell where his iris ended and his pupil began. Perfect for a horror movie, even more perfect for a real-life werewolf. God, I don't know what's going on. I mean, I love him. I love Jake with all my heart. It was sort of ridiculous really how much I loved him. He made me feel whole, complete, you know – not like anything been missing before, but like I was a glass of lemonade or something and he was just that touch more of sugar needed to make it perfect. I could laugh and joke with him, and he got me, a lot more then anyone else I knew got me. I mean, add the fact that he looked freaking hot when he was in Alpha-mode, was very hot normally, and was so endearingly sweet when I needed him to be and almost as big a bitch as I was when I didn't. I'd fully every intention of chaining him to me somehow – in the distant future, possibly when we were in our thirties, and most probably with an actual chain – I had in no way prepared for this. Very, very carefully – so as not to scream – I asked, "Why do I get the feeling," (breathe, Leah, breathe), "that this is in some way... plan B?"

"Plan B?"

"As in, you couldn't cause Sam so much physical pain they'd have heard him screaming in Timbuktu, so you decided to try to make him jealous instead, and with all the talk about him and Emily finally getting married, and Mom and Charlie, the first thing you could come up with was..." I made a strange gesture between the two of us that, I suppose, was trying to indicate us tying the knot. It looked more like my hand had been possessed by the ghost of a one-handed knitter, but it got the idea across.

As soon as he realized what I was getting at – maybe even sooner then I realized it – Jake started protesting. "It's not like that, Leah. Not like that at all-"

"Isn't it?"

"No, I mean... Hoover-fucking-Dam, Leah... Didn't you pay any attention earlier?"

"Apparently not enough," I made a more traditional wave at the certificate sitting in the front seat, "because now, you tree-faced, thigh-bone-humping fart-drinker, we're married."

Sadly, "I'm sorry, Lee, but I thought-"

"It is!"

"Then," he asked, now thoroughly confused, "what the fuck is the problem?"

"I don't know!" I raised my palms to my forehead and pressed down. Hard. "I'm just confused and dazed and hormonal and I'm not sure if we've gone out and done this because we're ready for it or because its this whole wolf-thing... I don't know anything any more and it's driving me fucking mad. I mean, sometimes it's hard for me to remember Kate's older then gunpowder and, I dunno, everything but sliced bread – let alone a vampire. And then there's Nessie, who I should hate, but has ended up, oddly enough, my best girl friend since Emily went et tu, Brute on me, and I hate children but, lately, being around her and just having to freaking babysit her and all that, I've found myself thinking how cute she is, and sometimes I even catch myself thinking 'I want that,' even though I'm sure I can't, despite everything Carlisle has said... And everything's all messed up, you know? And then there's the part of me that thinks this means we're going to die whenever the Volturi come..."

"You think too much, Leah."

I hit him again. "Somebody in the pack has- Oh my God! The pack. What do we tell them? What do we tell Mom?"

Jake kissed me to shut me up. I must say, it worked, and lead to the "parking" I'm sure he was expecting. Though having sex in the back of an Audi is not something I recommend when both of you are over six feet tall. We made it work somehow... though we might have bent a few things. And gotten an imprint of one of the seat belts tattooed on my back. But it was very worth it. For a guy that was a virgin only a few months ago, he's learned quite a lot... but I may be biased.

"God," I said as we climbed back into the front and started for the manor again, "and to think Rose thought knitting would be enough to calm the inner beast."

"Please tell me knitting, in this case, is an euphemism for-"

Dryly, "No." I looked down at the sheet of paper in my hand, not quite believing what it said still. A tingly feeling – a little like the start of phasing, but going no further then that – filled me. About a quarter-of-a-mile from the house, I declared, "I'm keeping my name."

"Good. It'd be confusing if I had to start calling you 'Jac-'" I hit him again. "Fucking hell, Leah, I need that arm you know."

"I'm still angry at you."

"You can't be angry at me; it's our wedding night."

I groaned and looked skyward, barely noticing as the car came to a halt. "Please tell me this is a dream, 'cause I'm not coping with this at all."

But, I mean, how bad was it really? I mean, Jake and I were going to be together... and now the state of Washington acknowledged that we were. So yeah shared income taxes. Now just to get that income...

Now just to explain it to Mom. It was New Year's Eve and still relatively early... I could call her. But I can already see where that conversation would lead to ("Hey Mom," I would say, and then she'd say, "Hi Leah. Long time, no see." "Well, you know, being a werewolf is hard. But guess what?" "Charlie already told me about Jake getting arrested. They dropped the charges though, so it's not going to go on his permanent records or anything. Sam has to stay overnight though..." "No, Mom. Not that." "Then what?" "Jake and I got married!" Silence. "Mom? Mom?") and ends with me having to call 911 because she's gone into shock. I should tell Billy first so that he can tell Mom... so at least someone will be with her when she passes out. (I can see how that conversation would go too: "Hey Billy," I'd say, then he'd ask, "Are you pregnant?" all hopeful. Then I'd say, "No... but Jake and I did get married like twenty minutes ago." "Well, what are you doing talking to me for? Go! It's your honeymoon. Make me some grand-babies!" "Billy!" "When you're done, be sure to prop your legs up, that way the sperm are more likely to-" and and that point I'd hang up on him and go console myself with large amounts of ice cream.)

But we can do this. I mean, it's not like being married is going to change anything. I mean, we'll still be here, living at the rock, preparing to fight the Volturi, waiting for various nomads and covens to show up from all around the world and try not to prey on the human population of Forks, and essentially sharing our "place" with my little brother and two of his friends. Only our income taxes will change, and since we have no income other then what the leeches give us, we don't even have to worry about that. It's just a fucking piece of paper anyway...

We entered the manor to Edward letting loose a spasm of laughter that caused every vampire (and half-vampire) in the room to turn away from the documentary on World War Two they were watching and stare curiously at him. They were a curious group – Edward, sitting next to Bella, with little Ness between them, on the couch; Kate sitting on the floor below them, her back against the couch and elbows propped on knees, looking even younger then the seventeen she claimed; the mated nomads, Peter and Charlotte, were sitting on the adjoining couch looking bored (I took this to be because they'd been turned, or so I'd been told, during said war), Charlotte flicking idly through a stack of fashion magazines while Peter was doing the same with a pile of Country Livings; Mary, Motuckquas, whatever the hell she wanted us to call her, was the most curious, sitting at Edward's piano bench and knitting at about twenty-miles a second, so that feet of what could only be scarf for the house or, maybe, to run along the boundary were forming as we watched – but all had the same expression on their face as they turned to look at Ed-weird. He was the oldest vampire here, after Mary and Kate, I realized, and soon after that was certain that Kate hadn't gone with her sisters and Eleazaar to Egypt for more then some cock-up with one of their vampires, but because she was over a thousand-years-old and, from what Nessie had said earlier (God, could it have only been today?), it seemed that the older a vampire was, the more others listened to them, however grudgingly. And Kate gladly let Edward be in charge here, because it was the Cullen's home, and now the "head" of this gathering looked like he'd lost his mind. 'Cause nobody, not even vampires, laugh during World War Two documentaries.

"Sorry," he said, turning to look at the door, "the wolves are back."

They all turned at looked at us, the nomads crinkling their noses, Kate frowning. "Chyort voz'mi!" she said, scrambling to her feet and coming over to us. "I was sure you were going to drive to Las Vegas too."

I glared at her and stomped over to the place she'd vacated, sitting down and trying to listen to the narrator describe in gruesome detail and not-at-all-vague euphemisms the Siege of Leningrad. "I hate you."

"I love you, Aunt Leah," Nessie said, sliding off the couch and into my lap. She turned around there to face me and lifted her hand to my face. She showed me pictures of her relations' various weddings and the wedding scene from The Little Mermaid.

I rolled my eyes at her. "Yes, Ness."

She clapped her hands and looked up at her dumb-ass father. "I win the bet Daddy!"

I would have sprang up and started shouting if Nessie wasn't still in my lap. Jake, who was watching Mary knit curiously, as if it were some sort of dumb sporting event boys liked to watch, certainly looked stunned. We both contented ourselves with a resounding, "What!"

Bella, clicking the TV off, calmly explained, "Jasper has another bet going on. This one was on when you would get married. Emmett had by Christmas, Nessie before wolf breeding seasons begins, Rose February, et cetera – congratulations by the way – so they've that pot to divide up, plus the other one."

"Other one?" I asked faintly, not sure I wanted to know and debating internally on whether I should stay for the answer or run now for the kitchen. I was starving.

"The one on whether or not you'd be pregnant when you did."

"Oh," I said even more faintly. I as going to have to extricate Nessie from my lap and head straight for the kitchen. That was obviously the only place left I could go where I wouldn't be caught up in this insanity. I mean, I was married now for Gods sake to a high school senior talking to vampires about the bets they've placed on my love life. Something was clearly wrong with the world. I don't know what, but something was. Maybe I'll wake up soon and just find out that I'm dreaming. Yeah, that's it. I'm dreaming and soon the aliens will show up and...

I looked up. No aliens, just perfectly white ceiling.

Shit.

Time for an emotional breakdown in the kitchen, accompanied by my one true love, Karamel Sutra, and whatever I can manage to microwave without burning the house down. Which, while they would deserve it, the blood-sucking fiends, would leave me entirely kitchen-less.

"So," asked Mary as she untangled a new skein of yarn to add to her creation, "who wins if Kiwidinok didn't know she was with child when they wed?"

I began to yell, "I am not a fucking kiwi, you lame-ass, pansy-footed, snake-fucking, banana-eater," but only got as far as the kiwi before I started choking on my own breath. Jake, I noticed dimly, had collapsed into the piano, hopefully breaking some important part of it.

"Aunt Rose," Nessie said calmly, then poked me in the chest. "Daddy, Aunt Leah's not breathing."

If I could've, I'd have shouted, "No shit," at her but, as it was, clearly couldn't. I settled for glaring at her as I passed out. Maybe, if I was lucky, they'd give me Versed again... I'd a feeling I was going to need it.


	20. Tango

"We are ready for the siege; we are armed up to the teeth; we care for how you live and breathe.  
Release what's underneath. How many times do you wanna die? How many wings? Do you wanna die?  
Do you feel safe again? – look over your shoulder, very carefully look over your shoulder.  
We can laugh about it now; we hope everything works out. Be careful how you lick  
your wounds. Believe that change is coming soon."

Silversun Pickups "The Royal We"

* * *

Chapter Twenty, Tango

"For some reason that brought a faint, almost hysterical chuckle to is mouth," Nessie read, sitting on the edge of the bed I'd woken in, "He couldn't believe he was in this situation," I was knitting, yet again, but this time with a sort of loom-thing that had shown up with some yarn on what had temporarily become my beside table, and was, for once, making good progress on a hat. Never mind that I'd been sitting her for five plus hours with an IV in my arm, no one but Nessie to talk to, though Kate had, showing great passion and great restraint, gone to the one restaurant in Forks and purchased two of every entrée on the menu and brought it back for me, neither complaining over-much at the smell of cooked meat nor tying one of the boys who worked there up and bringing him back to ravish all night. I guessed she was pining still for my brother. Gross. But she'd done that, dropped it off with Nessie and me, then said something about having to go keep an eye on Peter, who apparently wasn't known for either his digression or his common sense. "He was supposed to be some sort of hero, going up against Mister Monday, and here he was without any pants on," (well, I thought, you can be a hero without pants easily enough. Just looks at us lot, by which I meant we werewolves, we go around all the time without a stitch of clothing on fighting vampires and other assorted evil. If we can do it, you can do it wearing only a nightshirt and an overcoat), "worrying about being bitten somewhere very unpleasant by Nithling snakes." The cap I was making was almost done now. I'd a pile of three like it nearby, testimony to how long I'd been here. Laying in a hospital-like bed somewhere on the second or third floor of The Bat Cave, an IV in my right elbow pumping me full of who knew what drugs (Nessie had said it was saline and a variety of neonatal vitamins, but she was three, four months old. No matter how much I like Ness, I'm not trusting my health to a child protégée who was reading be a children's book, however interesting, when I was twenty-one years old) and being told I could only get up to go the bathroom, which was often with all the fluids they were pumping into me. I was told it was because I'd been dehydrated last night and was running at one-ten, rather then the one-oh-seven that was normal for me, according to all the blood-draws and whatnot Carlisle had done on me since Jake's birthday. They were worried about me. And the baby within me. Or, rather, that they claimed was within me. They said they could smell the what they were dubbing "lycanthropic chorionic gonadotriphin," or lCG, for about two weeks now, and that it was a milkier, less coppery smell then hCG, or the human version of it that we'd missed out on smelling on Bella because her pregnancy had progressed so fast. I thought they were crazy and that I'd werewolf cancer, or mange, or something like that, but would they listen? No. So I was making hats while listening to Nessie read Garth Nix at the end of my bed, occasionally stopping to change out my IV bags. "Surely no real hero would end up in this predicament."

I yawned. "When will Special Ed-ward and Bella-rina be back from the airport with that Irish lot?"

"Siobhan, Liam, and Maggie."

"Whatever. They left ages ago. What are they doing? Driving around the Olympic Forest trying to convince them that you're a 'real boy'? I thought Carlisle had already done that."

"'Real girl,' but you're right: Grandpa already did that. No, it's probably just a refresher on the rules of the house-"

"No eating the neighbours, no glittering in public, play nice with the werewolves-"

"-or," she continued as if she'd not been interrupted at all, the idiot child, "giving them a tour or something. According to Daddy, they've never been out of Great Britain, and Siobhan's just barely older than Kate."

This made me sit up – I was half-reclining, the pillows propping me up at a forty-five degree angle – and almost immediately regret it, a pain in my right arm where I'd managed to tug at the IV forcing me back down. "Does that mean they have cool accents?" I asked, desperately curious.

She tilted her head so her rich brown curls bounced against her shoulder. "I'd imagine so."

"That somehow makes lying on this bed all God damn day somewhat better."

"You passed out, Aunt Leah."

"Yeah! From the shock of being informed I'm pregnant – when I'm clearly not – right after getting back from my spur-of-the-moment marriage to a high school senior who turns into a furry wolf every five seconds and might well have married me to one up our ex-Alpha."

"Your lCG is at four hundred and twenty-nine million units per millilitre, which, if you look at the results of the CBCs Grandpa has been running on you since November, is about eight times the nineteen million units per millilitre that your body releases during ovulation – too small for even us to smell. And you love Uncle Jake. Why does it matter why you got married, so long as you're together?"

I resisted the urge to throw something at the child. But she was a child, whatever medical training her family may have given her, and so I settled for just tossing one of the hats at her. She smiled and put it on. She had to roll it up several times, but it was still too big for her. "Those weren't made for midgets, you know. And I'm not pregnant."

"I'm the one with the ninety-two degree body temperature. And yes, you are. And, if lCG is anything like hCG, the levels in your body are enough to suggest that you are a month pregnant, give or take a week."

About jumping up again, I restrained myself to a knowing smile. "Which I can't be, because I'd my last period two weeks ago." One point Leah, nill for the bloodworm doctors.

"Or," she said, smiling convivially, "two werewolf parent pregnancies progress faster then human ones, or you're having a whole litter."

I glared at her. Stupid tie-causing half-vampire doctor wannabes. "I hate you right now. So when are your parents getting home?"

"Oh, less than an our or so. More than enough time to finish Mister Monday. And maybe another hat."

The question I really wanted to know the answer to was the one as to where Jake had gotten himself off to. Wasn't that just perfect? Tricked or hormonally-driven or whatever into marriage, and then find out the leeches – ridiculously, stupidly, and, mostly, wrongly – thought he'd knocked me up and where was he? Not here, that was for sure. Stupid boys. "I want to get out of bed, Ness. There's no reason for me to be in one. Or in this house. It smells too sweet. And I'm bored. Love you to pieces, my little Lock Ness Monster friend, but I want to go run. Or something. Outside. At my rock."

She set the book down and, pulling herself across the length of the bed, she plopped down beside me, reclining her too-cool body against the pillows. Her little head leaned against my arm, a slight weight. It had been so easy to hate her when she was growing inside her mother, my soon-to-be-stepsister Bella's stupid, fatal mistake. But, as with Kate, it was hard to hate her once you got to know her. And she was all but growing in front of my eyes. Already she looked closer to three than two, and her interests and range of knowledge was more ridiculously expansive then anyone else's I'd ever known. One moment she was reading me middle school books, the next she was pretending to be my doctor (not that I needed one, I should point out), and now she was a little two-year-old-girl leaning against my side... It would have been so much easier to hate her, to storm out of here. But... I couldn't. Not when Kate was the only veggie vamp in the house, and three traditional blood-suckers with no attachment at all to her...

"I know, Aunt Leah. But you really weren't feeling well last night. Will you stay here just a little bit longer, until Daddy comes back? I don't want you to go out sick, not while your pack is either patrolling or in La Push."

I sighed and set down the stupid knitting loom thing for the moment. "And why," I asked, "are they at the Rez in the first place?"

"Matthew Mora."

That name sounded vaguely familiar. "Their English teacher?" What would bring any of the pack – even Quil, who enjoyed school the most of all of them – to the Rez on New Year's Day to talk to their English teacher?"

"His son."

I drew a blank at first, and then it hit me – why none of the boys, particularly Jake or Seth – were hanging out here with me. "He phased, didn't he?"

"I think so. All I know is, when you fell asleep right after Kate brought lunch, Uncle Jake stopped by and said that Embry was taking over the patrol, and that he and the rest of the boys had to go and see Matty Mora. He didn't want to wake you, 'cause when he tried to do it for the ball drop last night you started screaming 'Alien! Alien!'"

"I don't remember that."

"You were still effected by the Versed, I think. After that you started asking for an electronic sausage and a laser pointer, saying, 'We'll drive them out this way.' It was very amusing." I frowned. That did sound a little like me. Humph. I looked over at the child to say something in retort, but she was already asleep, seemingly having deemed be her favourite pillow. Stupid half-vampires.

No, stupid vampires. The full-fledged kind that had to come to town and, apparently, start causing the gene to rise again... I'm pretty sure Matty Mora's mother was the grandson of one of Old Quil's brothers or cousins or uncles, or something like that. He was defiantly one of Quil's more distant cousins. He was also, if I remembered correctly, in seventh or eighth grade. Even Brady and Colin had been out of middle school – if only just – when they started phasing.

If it was us that'd heard him when he'd first phased and not anyone from Sam's pack, that meant he'd be joining us, I gathered. Maybe it was pure chance, or maybe it had something to do with Quil – who I guessed would be Matty's closest relative out of all of us – being in our pack, or maybe something similar with Jake, whose mom had been Old Quil's niece.

Well, whatever it was, I can almost guarantee you that, as much as parents doing like their seventeen/eighteen-year-old children (and me) living out in the woods guarding vampires (or, like Ms. Call thinks, crashing with Jake and Quil, wherever they've gotten their "place"), parents are most distinctly not going to like their pre-teen son doing either.

Oh my God. If Jake is Quil's cousin, that makes him my cousin-in-law.

Oh my God, I'm... I'm like freaking out now. I don't know why, it's just stupid – I've nothing against Quil – and maybe its just this whole extended family thing, but... God...

I don't know why I did it – honestly, I don't – I picked up the lent iPhone somebody had placed on the beside table for me, who knew with what God-awful ringtone on it now, and dialled.

Bella picked up a moment later. There'd been some sort of piano music playing in the two seconds between my pressing go and her picking up, but I'd a feeling it was something of Eddie-bear's. I hated it on principle. "Hello Leah. Is everything alright there?"

Let's see... "Yes, you fucking retarded excuse for a dingbat's 'off' uncle, everything is just peachy-keen here, fucking beaver-nibbling melon sucker!" I rolled my eyes, glancing out of the corner of them to check that I'd not woken Nessie. However true my words might've been, it still bothered Ness to hear them. Poor child. She'd need years of therapy once she was grown up enough to realize how idiotic her parents were. Plus, coming to terms with the realization you were an accident, unwanted and likely to be forcibly removed until your mind-raping father finally heard your thoughts, was bound to be difficult. Look at Embry. Sure, he'd not tried to kill his mom in the womb, or had his mom tried to kill him (that we know of), but the kid has issues. "What do you think?"

"I'll put Edward on the phone then," she said smartly.

"No," I retorted sarcastically, "I called you because Mom wants to know if you'd prefer a cocktail-style or floor-length bridesmaid dress – of course I want to speak with your ass-pimping, mind-reading, frog-fondling husband! Until your head shrinks a little and your brain grows past the size of a sickly walnut, I've nothing to say to you. Oh, good-" I heard Edward bristle at my words regarding his wife. And something that might've been amusement or distaste from the Irish in their car. "You went to medical school, right? You're not just pumping me full of your dad's loopy drugs to see what, I dunno, arsenic does to a werewolf?"

"I have a Ph.D. from Princeton in Psychology and another from Yale in Pharmacology. I-"

"And yet you've gone through high school how many times?" What a depressing thought. I'd thought my teachers were idiots as a regular student. Having degrees like that and enough diplomas to wallpaper a small bathroom, it must be terrible. And they'd cursed Ness to that life – well, if she ended up slowing down her growth. I didn't know which to hope for, the cursed life or early death. "Never mind. Just tell me, and don't bother explaining all the CDG or LTP or whatever – Nessie already tried – just tell me in plain – sensible – English that doesn't require a dictionary or a bonfire-"

There was a sigh on the other end of the line. "Yes, you're pregnant, mutt."

"Oh," I said, feeling shocked. I dropped the phone, and sat stock still for the longest time. I was twenty-one. I'd married on the spur of the moment just last night. I was the Alpha female of my pack – and, annoyingly enough, wolf mating season hadn't even yet begun, and so I figured things could only get worse. Jake (God, my husband) was still in school.

I'd somehow managed to get pregnant. After two odd years of being a freak of nature, menopausal she-wolf, I not only had gotten my period back, but had lost it within two months again because I was God-damning, horse-scrubbing, scab-picking, nose-laundering, cat-bagging pregnant.

Let us pause and consider this. Me, Leah Jacqueline Clearwater. Er, Black. Whatever. It doesn't mater. Me, Leah. I frequently shape-shift into a giant grey wolf. All the experience I have with children amounts to what I can remember of Seth when he was little (and I was five or six-ish), which is almost nothing (as I was five or six-ish, and my clearest memories from that time involve feeding and, eventually, cursing at geese down by the Quillayute River. Oh, and the time I'd spent around Nessie, telling her I did not want to hear about ancient Hebrew washing chants or what they make mayonnaise out of. I have tried really hard to take care of Jake's – my – the pack, making sure they keep going to school and run patrols and make sure they get the leaf bits out of their fur and hair, whatever the case may be. But in what ways, exactly, am I equipped to handle a child of my own? So what if I'd a pair of mammary glands? That didn't exactly mean I knew what to do with a child after it left the uterus mobile...

Fuck. Fuck. Fuckity fuck. I used terms like uterus mobile and whatnot. That means I'm in no way, shape, or form prepared to have children. Least of all the fact I live at a rock, had no source of income other then what I bummed off vampires, and would be forced to explain to said child one day why all kids' parents didn't turn into furry creatures when they got angry...

What if the kid phased? What the fuck would happen when I phased? Would it turn into a wolf foetus? Or would something wrong happen to it? Or-?

Future. Don't think about it. That was the agreement I made with myself. Don't think about the future.

Damn. Damn. Squirrel-fucking salmonella damn.

I heard noises on the stair – loud, boisterous, boy noises, noting like those quiet, sneak-up-on-you noises vampires made. As Jake and Seth and Quil and, surprisingly, the boy I thought was Matty Mora, came piling into the room, I glared at them and held my finger to my lips, indicating the sleeping half-vampire at my side.

Quil rolled his eyes at me and sprawled across one of the room's oversized chairs. Seth did similar, only dropped onto the foot of my hospital bed, jiggling me and almost making Nessie bounce from the force of it. Picking the improbable child up, though, Jake lifted her gently off the bed and left, presumably, to take her to her room, while Matty just stood there awkwardly, a slight sheen of sweat on his face; he must have just barely gotten over that terrible "sickness" all of us had before our first transformation.

Casually (while investigating the ends of my knitting), Seth said to the boy, "Have a seat or something; Leah only bites when she's wolf."

I growled at my brother. "Oh yes, nice to see you too Seth. I suppose you're too good to tell your sister 'hello' first before insulting me to complete strangers."

"He's not a stranger, Lee. His mom is the daughter of Quil's granddad's and Jake's mom's mom's brother, Arty. The one that passed away when I was in first grade. And since Old Quil's grandpa is Grandpa Aaron's grandpa, that makes him our third cousin."

"See, Lee?" said Quil sarcastically, discovering some of the untouched leftovers from lunch, "not a stranger at all."

"Whatever. It looks like you're no longer Omega then, Seth – and don't just stand there, Matty; you're making me nervous, staring at me like that."

He sidled into a chair at last, looking incredibly nervous and confused. I knew that look: we'd all worn it at one point, still trying to believe that we weren't be April Fooled, not understand the whole she-bang with werewolves and vampires and us being one of the former and yet somehow visiting me in a sickbed inside the latter's house. Matthew Mora was short, for a werewolf, though still easily five-and-a-half feet, if not more. His hair was brown-black, and eyes a round, pale hazel – almost blue or grey, they were so light – with flecks of gold that caught the light. He looked about the age Seth should – sixteen – though I knew he had to be at least three years sort that. Even before he spoke, his voice crackling a bit, I felt those evil, sympathetic hormones kicking in, wanting to make sure the boys didn't ruin him – either misplaced maternal instinct or honest-to-goodness-well-wishing. "Why you hooked up to an IV?"

Seth took pleasure in saying, "'Cause Edward had to drug her last night."

I kicked him, which gave me pleasure, and was saved from answering when Jake entered and pushed Seth off the end of the bed so he could take that place himself. "Nessie is zonked out. You didn't give her your pills, did you?"

"No..." I said slyly. "I understand I called you an alien."

"The leeches were watching an X-files marathon while supposedly running tests on you. Its understandable."

"You tell them?"

"Tell us what?" asked Seth, now sitting on the floor by the pile of take-out boxes, not bothering with silverware at all.

Always one to rip of band-aids (if I ever bothered to put one on), I told him, "Jake and I were fighting last night, and-"

"And how is that news?"

I glared at Quil, then continued, "-and we ended up-"

Jake ended up cutting me off and just saying it, not as if it were something to be mildly embarrassed of but, rather, somewhat proud, like when his dad caught a particularly large fish or your team won the Super Bowl fifty-to-five, "We got married at the courthouse last night. Oh, and the leeches think she's pregnant."

I kicked him this time. "Yes, 'cause that's how you tell the pack what we did," I started to say, but was interrupted by Quil going, "Cool," Matty's eyes widening a little, and Seth choking on what appeared to be a chicken bone.

After a moment, he managed to chew or swallow it or something. "Last night," he asked somewhat weakly, eyes streaming."

Jake confirmed this and examined the stupid knitting I'd been doing, trying to figure out what exactly I was doing, let alone why, with the string.

"Damn," Seth cursed. "I'm out fifty bucks – I'd had bet it would be January."

I snatched the knitting loom and from Jake and threw it at my brother, who ducked and, tugging on the string, started to knit while his other hand probed the various boxes of take-out.


	21. Uniform

"As the sun once said to the ocean, I will be right here when you come back home.  
As you curl your toes and pretend that you know where we've been and where you'll go...  
I stole you this bouquet – the spoils of war, and as long as you're okay, I'm okay.  
You're okay? Okay? Okay."

Sugar Glyder "Spoils of War (The OK Song)"

* * *

I was woken by the sound of NSYNC. It was not a pleasant way to wake up, even though I was curled next to Jake, using his chest for a pillow, and snuggled warm under a heavy blanket, the dulcet tones of "Bye, Bye, Bye" make anyone wake up on the wrong side of the rock. Fumbling, feeling groggy and stupid, I grabbed the phone and pulled my arm back under the blankets, holding it to my ear. "What kind of sick, sadistic pleasure does it give you to constantly change my ringtones?"

"It's not me that's been doing that," came, surprisingly, Emmett's voice on the other end of the phone. "I'd have chosen something exciting like Eiffel 65's 'Blue' or Right Said Fred's 'I'm Too Sexy.' What was it playing?"

"The dulcet tones of NSYNC. So, what, you back, or just calling me to annoy me?" It was almost the end of January. If Alice had been right – and she nearly always was – the Volturi would be here in a week or two, ready to pull off our heads and burn our innards.

"Got back about an hour ago. Rose and I brought Garrett here – Revolutionary War solider who none of us have ever heard of before, save Mary, who despises him on principle. Hmm..." He sounded like he relished the drama. Which he probably did. "But if it's that, it's probably Kate who's been doing it. She's always had a thing for boy bands. Or maybe Maggie. Who knows?" The manor was becoming crowded with leeches now. The Irish Coven (Siobhan, her mate Liam, and little Maggie) had been here for three weeks, as had the American nomad Randall. Two of the Amazonian Coven (Zafrina, the eldest vampire I'd come across yet at almost eighteen hundred years, and Senna) were here, sent north by Alice and Jasper, who were still in Brazil with the third, Kachiri, looking. Tanya and hers had returned with the Egyptians (Amun, Kebi, Benjamin and Tia) just the day before, flying in from Seoul after determining the Chinese Coven had either been destroyed during the rise of Mao or were so well hidden they couldn't be found. Which brought the vampire house count up to twenty-four, if Emmett and Rose were really back. Plus three in South America, plus Carlisle and Esme in Europe, looking up Alistair. Which would bring us to an even thirty vampires if they all got here in time.

And eight werewolves. Ten if you counted the ones growing inside of me, providing me horrid morning sickness if I so much as smelt coffee, strawberries, or well-done meat, no matter what time of day it was. I couldn't have been much more than a month pregnant, keen vampire hearing and lab tests had shown my pregnancy (which I reluctantly, after throwing up on New Years Day after smelling Bella's shampoo from two floors away, had to admit was real) was behaving as if it were nine, not five weeks along. I wasn't even showing yet...

Weren't there only six of us then, what with Matty Mora joining?

There had been. And then, shortly after Tanya and the Egyptians had arrived, we'd two more wolves phase on the same day: Zack Clearwater, Dad's cousin's son, and Matty's little sister Judith. Both were twelve. And, yes, Judith. Another she-wolf. According to Seth, who got along best with the La Push pack, they'd another three of their own phase in January – Jared's twin cousins and one of Paul's – but none of the others were girls. I was just kinda thrilled that I wasn't a freak of nature, and that other girls could phase... Unless we were both freaks of nature, I dunno. All I know is that there were two of us now, and I was Alpha female, my place secure, and the world starting to go right now that it might be ending and everything in the next few weeks.

"Cool," I said around a yawn. "Why you telling me this?"

"Well, I was calling to tell you that Carlisle and Esme found Alistair and are flying in tonight, and want to talk to all of us at seven at the manor."

"And you couldn't have told me that later why?"

"Well, I also want to congratulate you. I hear you're one preggo-Eggo, wolfy dear. Twice up the spout too... Not exactly a litter, but close enough. So, what you going to call the little cubs? Romulus and Remus? Randolph and Rudolph? Wolfgang and-"

I hung up the phone and rested my head back upon Jake's chest. "Who was that?" he yawned, adjusting his hold on my waist.

"Emmett. He and Rose are back."

"Grey-ate," he yawned stretching a little. "Just what we needed, more blood-worms. What time is it?"

I looked at the phone. "Time for you lot to start getting ready for school." Taking the blanket with me, I forced myself to sit up and stare at the pile of sleeping forms around us. "Oi! You lot! I know it's Monday, but you gotta go to school." I turned around to glare at Jake, as if it were his fault they weren't listening to me, and discovered him fast asleep again.

I punched him in the stomach.

"Time," I said, standing up and making my rounds, kicking and prodding awake as needed, "to get up!" Little Judith was closest, a curled asleep a few paces from where I'd been, a motley grey wolf with a brown back, no more than three feet high and five from snout to tail. As a girl, she was just over five feet as well, though in the short time I'd known her she'd already grown at least an inch. Just past twelve, I'd have guessed her fourteen or so from a distance. But she was also the youngest of the new "pups," ours and La Push's together. Her dad, the boy's English teacher, Richard Mora, thought his two kids had run away from home and called Charlie, who in turn had called us... I knew Jake was leery of sharing our secret with too many, especially his teacher, but we just couldn't keep twelve-year-olds out in the woods without their parents worrying. Not that we hadn't tried, but the pups wouldn't go home, not when we were "having fun" and "roughing it" and whatever else. Oddly enough, my presence among the pack had lessened Mr. Mora's anxiety dramatically. Don't ask me the hell why. But still, I knelt down and shook the wolf-girl. "Judy, you don't get your ass up right now, you're going to have to walk to school – and I'll see that you do it too."

Groaning, she opened one golden eye at me and phased. "God, Aunt Leah," (she'd picked up the name from Nessie, and it'd expanded to all the pups in the world's most annoying way), "you're worse about school than Dad is."

"You go to school until you finish twelfth grade," I informed her, using my toe to shake Zack. He was a sandy-brown wolf of about Judith's size and Seth's colouring. A boy, he was near Matty's hight, with dark brown hair he wore past his shoulders, making his fur long and shaggy, and his eyes, both as wolf and human, were blue-grey. "That goes double for you, Zachary Clearwater. No cousin of mine is going to end up as big an air-headed douche-bag as our Alpha."

I heard a sleepy, "Hey," come from Jake, while Zack rolled off his back and phased back to human. "Second cousin," he yawned. "Second. Doesn't that give me some leeway?"

"No."

Matty was sleeping human close to the edge of the lean-to. I moved to prod him, but, luckily for him, he was already up and trying to wake his legs. "It's only school. It could be worse."

"For you, maybe," his sister snapped back, already in a knee-length dress and combing her fingers through her hair in attempt to get the leaf litter out of it. "But we have to spent all day with a bunch of idiots who can't understand the FOIL method after two weeks of trying. I think I was dreaming about quadratic equations last night, it's gotten so bad."

Pulling on his own clothes, Embry replied, "No, I'm pretty sure you were dreaming about Star Wars."

"Star Trek," Zack corrected, "no Jedi. And that was me."

I don't even pause to think what he might have been dreaming from Star Trek or why. I just double check that Jake is waking up and pull off my own sleep-shirt and wiggle into something that still fits me. I fear that when Alice comes back, first thing she'll do if we manage to live is drag me maternity shopping. Evil vampiric creature. If she could find wireless internet access for her phone in the Amazon, I'm sure she'd already be ordering things for me, if somebody's told her about, well, me being pregnant with twins.

I still can't get used to that thought. Me. Pregnant. And with a litter of two too.

The vampires have been hearing their heartbeats for about a week now. I started picking up on it the other day. The tiny thump-thump sounds running parallel to my own. I was half certain too that the vampires had a bet going on whether it'd be two boys, two girls, or one of each. Jake personally thought two boys, because of the werewolf gene coming out dominantly in boys and both of us being werewolves, but I wasn't so sure.

Evil vampires.

Slowly herding my group towards the manor and the Rabbit that waited there, I tried to think of anything but the twins... I settled for how much I wanted Karamel Sutra ice cream right now... and a really good hamburger, all thick and juicy and treading that fine line between hint-of-pink and completely-brown, with two pieces of real cheese – not that fake, wrapped-in-plastic stuff, but the kind you cut off a real block of rich, yellow cheese – with perfectly ripe tomato slices, and lots and lots of pickles, and no onions... ooooh! Or caramelized onions and mushrooms sautéed in butter on a perfect Philly cheesesteak... or Philadelphia cream cheese and pickles on crackers... and obviously I was going insane, because not only was there no one in the house who could, or would, make any of it for me, or go out and by the requisite pickles and cream cheese, but pattern dictated the moment the meat started browning I'd be rushing for a bathroom. I had the distinct privilege of throwing up in eight of the nine bathrooms in the Cullen's cold house ('cause they were vampires, and cold... obviously my sarcasm has been failing me during this stupid ass, progressing-too-fast-but-not-as-freakishly-fast-as-Bella's pregnancy thing. Next time, Jake gets to be the one to be pregnant. Like sea horses. If we could shape-shift into werewolves, I'm sure we could figure out how to do the whole sea horse thing. Or maybe go the kangaroo route...

Luckily, a car coming up the road with an engine whose roar we'd come to recognize distracted me from my thoughts of food and marsupials. It was Charlie, coming in the cruiser to a house full to the brimming with vampires for God knew what reason. Jake seemed to want to use that as an excuse not to go to school, put I pushed him and the rest into the car and them I'd take care of it. "School. Now," I ordered, and he stuck his tongue out at me, muttering, "Slave driver," under his breath.

Seth gave a half-hearted glare at me, squishing into the back seat with the other six somehow fitted into a car that shouldn't be able to fit four grown adults comfortably, let alone werewolves, then waved as the Rabbit sped off.

"Weirdo." Then turned to Charlie, who was getting out of the cruiser in his complete police getup. "What brings you to leech manor, Pops?" His face was grim and set as if he was ready for the worst. "There's been an animal attack up in Fairholm. A girl, about fifteen, found mauled in an ally. Looks like it could be the work of a rabid dog, but maybe..."

And he wanted to see if one of the non-veggies had done it. He could've just called... but he was Bella's father. What was it with the Swans and putting themselves in mortal danger? Would Mom get that habit after she finally married Charlie, come August? I hope not. 'Cause goodness knows Forks is like the town in the western hemisphere for getting into mortal danger, and, if we died, I'd not be there to see that she got out of it... though she mightn't get into that much of it if we did all just die and there were no vampires or werewolves or rabid unicorns or whatever in Clallam County, Washington. Oh, yes, that's a morbid thought, Leah, I thought to myself. You can't die. Mom may have Charlie now too worry about her, but what about Seth? And Jacob, of course? Or the pups, born and unborn both?

I'm just saying, God fucking damn it! I argued right back to myself, Can't I even go a day without fighting with myself?

You're married, but you've not told Mom or Billy or even anyone outside the leeches or the pack. You're pregnant – with twins – and they don't know either. You're just hanging about, pretending to live or something.

I'm happy! I protested, looking at Charlie. He looked better cared for then he'd ever since I knew him, like there was someone there not just to see he fed himself (coughBellacough), but iron his uniform properly or, at least, see that he did it properly, and all that went along that line. It vaguely disturbed me that Mom might be doing Charlie's laundry, though I couldn't say why. He looked happy – and I could tell it, because I was happy... what was it Nessie had read from some book? Wars and elections are both too big and too small to matter in the long run. The daily work – that goes on, it adds up. That was it. And I might've spent my time seeing the pack went to school and brought home dinner and hung out with insane vampires, I was happy. Despite the war that was all too close for comfort.

I know you are... but you're living in a bubble. What about your family? What about your friends?

Everyone I know-

There's a reason you haven't told Mom, or Rachel, or even Emily, who used to be you're best friend...

Shut up, I told my traitorous thoughts, and managed a, "Well, come on then, if you want. Probably best, actually; don't want one of the loonier ones to find you out here all alone. Stay behind me, though. Some of the nomads are a bit... touchy when it comes to humans."

I went into the house, pausing at the door. Mary, Maggie, and Randall were there, the latter two playing ten games of chess at once while Mary was sitting on the piano bench and beading. Why, I don't know, but she did. They all looked up as Charlie's human smell wafted into the room, but none of them moved. Well-trained vampires they were. "Where's Zafrina?" I asked, not bothering to introduce them. There were too many vampire smells trailing all over the house for me to be able to pick out which was hers and freshest... So I had to ask. Stupid vampires.

Maggie, a short fourteen-year-old girl with long, coppery curls and an angel's face, tilted her head to the side and looked at Charlie curiously. "The human. He is one of Bella's kin." Yes, yes, yes, but can't you just answer my question? No... because that would make too much sense for a vampire. She was to Siobhan and Liam what Edward, Rose, and the others were to Carlisle and Esme though, in the strange way of vampires, she only appeared three mortal years younger then her "mother." I'm also near certain that Jasper is, again in mortal years, the same age or only slightly younger, then Carlisle, and Emmett isn't that too far off. And Edward is older (as a vampire) then Esme but younger (as mortal ages go) too... It's all very confusing...

Rolling my eyes and trying to show the eight-hundred-year-old child who's in charge here."Her father. Where's Zafrina?"

"Back yard," Randall told me, being generally more mature, despite the fact he wore a hundred-year-old (at least) raccoon cap. "What's with the human?"

"Si prestara atención, Trampero, habría oído que el guardia piensa que uno de nosotros podría haber matado a algún humano al norte de aquí."

"L'amour de Dieu, Motuckquas," Randall implored, "the colonists won the war, and you red skins are in camps now where you-"

"And let's not fucking have this fight again," I said as I pushed Charlie into the kitchen, as he'd paused gawking behind me, presumably dazzled by the presence of three vastly different but highly immobile vampires, who weren't even pretending to breathe or fidget as the Cullens did. The only humans they ever dealt with were dinner for them. Or breakfast. They didn't even try, though all of them had strange human habits – Mary's crafts, some of the others interest in television or books or politics or furry little hats – and peculiarities. Mary's with English was only the most noticeable. Jasper had his own with the Civil War. But I really didn't need this right now. All I wanted to do was eat something, rest, and then maybe annoy Emmett into getting me pickles and cream cheese, and nap for a bit.

The kitchen was vampire free, luckily, and I took a butcher's knife from the rack of knives and proceeded on through, to the back door, shrugging my shoulders. "Clash of the civilizations. Randall was a French fur trapper before he was turned – sometime around the Louisiana Purchase, or before, or something – and Mary is – was – whatever – King Philip's sister and goes on all the time about how they should have won some war, or, at least, I think she does. She doesn't like speaking English all that much. Just don't ask questions, or let them get all I-want-to-suck-your-blood on you."

Somewhat in shock, either from the vampires still or the knife in my hand, Charlie seemed reluctant to continue on. "And how many of them are there?"

"Twenty-four. Twenty-seven tonight. Plus one half-vampire and eight werewolves. All of them being present had made six more kids from the Rez start to phase; who knows how many of us there'll be before it's all over and done with. No idea how big the Volturi are, only that we might be enough people now to make them pause before they kill us... but, anyway," I continued brightly, tugging at Charlie with my non-weapon hand and pulled him into the back yard, which was somewhat filled with sparkling vampires – Tanya and Kate sunbathing for some unknown reason, Siobhan pulling weeds from Esme's garden, and Zafrina and Senna hunkered around something a little ways off.

You know the knife won't hurt them, don't you, Leah? I asked myself.

I thought I told that corner of the brain to shut up... so shut up.

You know the knife won't hurt them, but you grab it anyway. Are you feeling human, trying to fight with weapons – they always fail you in the end – or do you fear you've gone too far to the wolf, living in the wolves, stepping on the Rez only once in six months, and are trying to force yourself into humanity?

Stop psychoanalysing me, me! Leave me alone! Just let me be!

But just being isn't working any longer, is it? You want to live – want to live so badly it hurts – but refuse to think past the battle. You haven't thought of the foetuses as actual children in side of you, children that will be born, that you'll have to take care of and name and raise. You haven't thought of telling anyone who might be hurt by your death anything... You don't know what you'll do if you live, because you-

Stop it! Stop it! I don't want to think about it! I yelled in my head, hoping the mind-raper wasn't listening to my confused thoughts, the part of me that knew I was repressing or avoiding or in denial growing louder with every day we drew closer to the battle. I tried to deal with it by not thinking of the fight, but it didn't work. Nothing ever did... "If anyone knows who did it, if anyone killed that kid you were talking about, Zafrina will know. She's the oldest, and the unofficial head of the non-veggies."

Tanya, however, had other plans, and was in front of the two of us before either could so much as blink. "Hello," she said, spreading her too-white teeth into a seductive smile (or, I thought, was meant to be seductive to Charlie, shudder), "and who do we have here?'

"Tachkya," Kate called with some exasperation, while I did the natural thing and hit at her with the knife. It curled awkwardly when it hit her flesh, but left a slice in her shirt that was enough to annoy her and send her away. It was enough to make me feel somewhat better. I needed a good fight. I needed this awful, endless anxiety to end...

I frowned at the knife and tossed it aside, the metal looking like half a banana peel. I shuddered at the thought. All I'd "Stupid, rock-boning, tree-humping, banana-fucking vampires," I cursed. "All I want to do is ask Zafrina if she knows if anyone has killed in-state, for God's frog-kissing sake! I do not want to have to fend horny leech-sluts off my mother's fiancé or have to listen to vampiric opinions on wars that happened four hundred years ago. Is that understood?"

The werewolves ignored me, though Kate did sit up a bit in her chair and let out a snort of laughter. "I think your hormones are getting the better of you, Kiwi."

"Stop calling me that!" I yelled, then, in exasperation, sat down on the steps coming down from the kitchen door. I pinched the bridge of my nose and took as deep a breath I could without choking on the sickly-sweet vampire smell. There was a clawing feeling inside my stomach, like it was trying to climb out whatever way it could manage, deciding it as easier to take vacation then try to put up with my weird eating habits.

I'm going crazy, I'm going crazy, I'm going crazy, I told myself. It's nothing to worry about. I tried to concentrate on my breathing, but it was rapid and shallow, and my heartbeats were confused with the twins'.

Kate – and, oddly, Bella – were at my side in an instant. "You can't get yourself all worked up like this, Leah," the latter admonished with me. "Your body is working too hard to handle it. Come on now, let's get you inside..."

"Have you had anything to eat today?" Kate asked, "Humans are big on food, right? That's important, I think I remember."

I tried to bury my head further in my hands and try to make sense of the world, which had suddenly chosen to blur around me. "Water," I choked out, counting my breaths and, when it grew too much, I phased there, curling into a ball on my side. It seemed to help, and the feeling in my belly started to calm down...

No, it wasn't in my stomach... it was in that stupid, hell-causing thing known as my womb. It was the feeling of tiny paws.

The twins, sensing my anger, had phased.


	22. Victor

"Where is the life we have lost in living?"  
T. S. Eliot "The Rock"

* * *

The wonders of werewolf pregnancy continued into the first week of February. The twins had found an annoying tendency to phase – even though Edward assured me there was no way in hell or its breadbasket that I could feel paws or notice them phasing when neither was even five inches long yet, which shouldn't have happened until I was fourteen weeks along, not... well, whatever I actually was – whenever I got angry. Which caused me to phase, 'cause, for those of you lucky enough not to experience shape-shifter birth, having wolf cubs inside you when you're human, or human babies inside a wolf, is not comfortable. Nor, should I mention, is having one of each in either form, but, luckily, the twins were of one mind enough not to do that too me too often.

I was by terns languid, laying on the leeches' porch or at the rock with my head on my paws and listening to whoever was phased chatter on about pine trees and squirrels and snow, and energetic, at one point actually voluntarily going with Rose (Alice, Jasper, and Kachiri having been stuck, for no adequately explained reason, at least not one explained with me, in Brazil) shopping for maternity clothes before coming to my senses halfway through the second store, when she was helping me into a shirt that read "Double Occupancy," and I'd phased in the dressing room... which made for a tense half-hour before the twins were content to be human foetuses once more. I mean, what do you say to someone about why there is a giant wolf in the dressing room, surrounded by piles of maternity clothing?

This, of course, was after the requisite calls from Mom and Billy, whom Charlie had naturally informed once Bella told him why I'd gone insane and phased while trying to find out if one of the non-veggies had mauled someone north of Forks. They hadn't, and it turned out to actually be a rabid dog, but still.

The conversation with Mom, for which she'd actually paid Seth to steal one of the Cullen's cars, kidnap me, and deliver me to the house, ensuring Jake didn't follow or come with – a plan only somewhat undermined by Seth telling me what Mom wanted him to do and asking if I'd be more comfortable in the Rabbit or the Audi, - went something like this:

Mom, yelling (I'd inherited most my temper from her): "What on God's green earth were you two thinking?"

Me, sitting on the couch next to Seth, who takes his uncle roll too seriously and stayed even though Mom asked him to wait in his room, trying not to think of anything that would anger me and knowing already I'd fail: "We weren't. The official opinion is that a 'hormonal impetus' or something temporarily overcame us and... long and short, we got married. There really wasn't that much thought put into it."

Mom: "Are you trying to give me a panic attack?"

Me, glancing down at my belly, which was just beginning to pooch (pause to consider the fun-ness of the word pooch. How many times in your life do you have an excuse to use such a fun-to-say word as pooch?): "With the baby thing? No. I'd no idea they'd want to phase when I got angry. No idea they could phase. Jake's over the moon, of course, and I think I might be happier if it wasn't the most hornet-hunting painful thing in the world, them doing it..." I didn't know what to be. Happy, sad, anxious... my mind wouldn't let me think anything past that day, which had to be coming soon, when the Volturi would come. It was impossible our survival, even with twenty-seven vampires and eight werewolves to scare them into pausing. They might pause, all right, but what good would that do when I'd heard whispers of the powers of The Volturi themselves – three men and two unknown wives, and their large contingent of guards, mostly taken from Eurasia and the rainforests of Africa, where tall trees could hide their tell-tale sparkle – paralysis, pain, complete mind-reading, manipulation over fire, something evil-sounding called The Voice. They might pause, but only to put off our deaths for a few moments... no matter how much I wanted otherwise.

Mom, now collapsing onto the chair to the left of the couch: "Twins?"

Me: "Oh, shit," and after a moment Mom got back to the yelling about the irresponsibility of it all, told me she was going to talk to Sam about this ridiculous agreement of ours, got weepy-angry over the fact I'd not seen fit to tell her about it for over a month, invited the pack in general and me and Jake in particular to dinner any time we felt like it, and then, pushing me out the door before it got too dark for "poor Seth" to drive me back, telling me that if we happened to name one of the babies after her or dad, she'd not say anything against it.

End with me blinking the car ride back, asking my brother if I'd managed to get through an entire conversation with Mom without yelling, sinking into three-part curses, or phasing. Seth nods his head, then we drive off in the opposite direction of the sunset...

The conversation with Billy was much shorter, carried out over the phone, however he'd gotten the number, after I'd yelled hopefully loud enough for everyone to hear that whoever made "Who Let the Dogs Out" the latest in the line of annoying ringtones to plague my "borrowed" iPhone, and lasted for all of forty-eight seconds.

Me: "What do you want?" I asked, glaring at the phone in exasperation. I had been napping quite nicely, in human form for once, on the Cullen's porch.

Billy: "You and Jake tied the knot, then?"

Me (nervously): "Yeah."

Billy: "And you're knocked up?"

Me (with a sigh): "Yeah."

Billy: "Twins?"

Me: "Yeah."

Billy: "Good," and with that he hung up.

It had gotten better the last few days, tough, and Carlisle, using, I'm sure, this as an excuse to make me his lab rat/wolf/thing, said it was probably because they had thumbs to occupy themselves with. Whether that meant the twins were using these new-found appendages to have thumb wars with or had just gotten to that point where they realized clawing up mommy's insides was not a good way to get a large allowance, I don't know.

Still, I was lying in a nice, hot bath in the Olympic-sized tub in one of the guest rooms, and that seemed to help. (I'd discovered one bath on the first floor, three each on the second and third, and, though I was told there was another, had yet to find it, nor even guess where it might be hiding, unless somewhere in the basement.) I was also trying not to hear anything floating up from below... Edward talking to Bella, I'm pretty sure, and maybe Nessie. "The Volturi aren't supposed to be villains, the way they seem to you. They are the foundation of our peace and civilization..."

But how do you get peace through so much war and death? They killed Kate's creator, and who knows how many others. They must have killed hundreds of thousands of humans throughout the ages just to feed... How is that peace? What makes that civilization? Why, the Cullens are more civilized then these old and ancient corpses seem to be...

Don't think about it, I told myself. These arguments were becoming more and more frequent, and I was half-afraid I was going mad. In fact, I think I might already be. Things are the way they are.

But do they have to be? We've a chance of fighting them-

Ha!

-a chance of winning-

Fool!

-and the Cullens could take over-

And have a vampire court right here? How many more kids will phase then? And will I just be popping out larger and larger litters to feed our pack's need – and Judith too, when she's older? How many leeches can Forks support, even if they all suddenly go veggie on us?

-and the vampires can learn how to be civilized at last... Carlisle would be a good leader...

Yes, he would... but absolute power corrupts absolutely, isn't that how it goes? Even as good a man as Carlisle couldn't be in charge forever without thinking to use his power to help humans... and you know how his "helping" of Edward and Esme and Rosalie and Emmett worked out...

...and the packs could join back together again, and Jake can be the true Alpha of all the werewolves once all this bother with the vampires is over-

Sam would never let that happen. He'd die first.

-and you'll be Alpha female of all the wolves – that'd show Paul and Jared and everyone else who used to make fun of you when everyone was all one pack. It'd show Sam-

I don't want that kind of power. Neither does Jake. We just...

Just what? You don't even know, do you? You haven't talked about the future, you haven't discussed baby names or plans for getting a real place other then a lean-to by a rock-

It's a nice rock, I protested to myself, dunking my head underwater as if that'd block out my traitorous thoughts.

-or of any idea how you're going to get the money, and raising cubs takes money, or of what you're going to do if there get any more of you... It may work out well with you and Jake at the head and Quil Beta, but how many more before pups before that gets too much? And how young will they be? Sixth graders next? Even younger? You can't keep an eye on so many young ones... You need plans. But you haven't-

We've plans for the battle!

But what about after?

But I ignored the voice, the part of me that thought there might be an after. It was too terrible to contemplate.

The water was getting tepid, or, it felt so to my burning skin. With great reluctance, I climbed out of the massive tub and pulled on a fluffy towel, letting the water drain while I brushed my hair, not looking into the mirror for fear of the haunted look my dark eyes might pierce me with.

I was only twenty-one. I know there are people who've done great things by the time they're my age, or just settled down properly and had a normal sort of life with a job and a house and dog. But I'm not one of those people. I might turn into a great hairy wolf, but I'm still a normal girl, and not ready in any way to care for babies or a pack of children or deal with vampires who argued about ancient wars and centuries old feuds in languages whose names were dead nothings to me. I just want my life back, the way things were before anyone started phasing, when Dad was still alive and there was none of this gross Charlie-doing-my-mother business to think about and I still had decent clothes and dressed like someone who wasn't the world's cheapest drug-whore who'd do you for one good snort...

But then you wouldn't have gotten together with Jake.

Shut up! Shut up! By God's withered and wrinkly ass, shut up!

There came a knock at the door. I made sure the robe tie was, well, tied – not that anyone in this house hadn't seen all I had to offer, what with my phasing – and called, "It's open," knowing from the bittersweet smell and the time it wasn't Jake or someone decent from the pack I could deal with, but a vampire. The slight hint of strawberries (which, though she'd insisted she'd changed shampoos, still lingered) told me it was that cursed creature, Bella-trix Le-Swan, who'd got me all in this mess to begin with. Pity Nessie was so cute; her mom'd be a lot easier to hate if that was the case. Oh well. Nessie was probably playing with little Maggie or Kate or Garrett, who seemed to find the idea of a half-vampire child the coolest thing he'd ever seen. "What do you want, dearest soon-to-be-stepsister of mine?" I half-wondered if she going to drag me off to look at bridesmaid dresses on-line (not that I thought either of us would end up being Mom's bridesmaids, if she ended up having any at all; the frilliest froo-froo thing I can recall Mom ever getting were some coasters with ocean scenes on them that I never used anyway) before I remembered that this was Bella we were talking about. She was probably going to martyr herself to me.

Oh joy.

I took the liberty of sitting down by the porcelain throne, just in case the strawberry smell got to be too much for me. There was silence for a moment and then, quite non sequitur, "I went to Seattle today."

I blinked at her – my all purpose reaction, I know. This time it said, "Why the fuck do I care, you humanity-betraying, icicle-humping, Bambi-killing freak-of-nature-who-I-hope-burns-when-the-Volturi-come, 'cause you totally deserve it for causing all this trouble." Yes, I do have like amazingly powerful eyes. Die, vampire, die! You cannot withstand my laser-beam eyes!

I blinked at that thought, and shook my head. Sleep. I needs it. I needs it bad.

"I..." she swallowed instinctively, still new enough that she'd not yet lost all gestures... She was vain enough to try and forcibly loose them, trying to mock marble and stone so truly it was disgusting to my eyes. I'd run away screaming if someone offered the same fate to me – after I'd beaten their ass so far in they couldn't find their nose – no matter how much I want to live. Flesh and hot, live blood – that's what I wanted. That's what I had. And she'd willingly thrown it all away for a chance at eternal life. Idiot. I wanted to live as long as I could, yes, but at least there was some hope things could change for me.

A future. If only you'll think about it. With Jake. And the cubs. And-

Shut the mother-fucking, condom-sucking, ass-draining hell up!

She would be eighteen forever, and idiot forever. And whoever was around her was going to be stuck with this insufferable vampire vanity and annoying I-can't-say-anything-outright-now-can-I. What on Earth did Edward see in her?

I idly picked at a piece of fuzz on my robe. Egyptian cotton or something expensive along those lines. I'll never understand the desire for expensive bath things, not when they all end up getting wet anyway. Bella finally began again. "I picked up some papers," she seemed to be rushing to say it all at once now, and tossed me a manilla envelope. It was heavy, and I found myself actually missing the girl who would have missed, or possibly maimed, with such a throw. Obviously, it's the hormones. "I," she paused again. I opened the envelope.

There were several sheets of paper of varying sizes and thickness inside, but the heaviest by far were two leather-covered folios about the size of a pamphlet folded in half. I knew what they were before I opened them, though not what they would contain.

Passports. And stuck into one were plane tickets. I opened that one first. Two tickets to Mumbai on Korean Air, with stopovers in Incheon International and Suvarnabhumi, wherever they were. Seats in the middle section of the plane, away from all windows, near the front. Tickets for Wolfe, Vanessa R. and Wolfe, Leanne J.

I looked up, not sure what to say. Mock the name "Wolfe" as the best she could come up with? Ask what the fuck she was thinking-?

No, I knew what she was thinking. They were coming to kill her daughter. So she was going to have me take Nessie and run.

"I can't let Renesmee stay here," she said unnecessarily, her voice growing high and rather annoyingly so, "to be killed, and I know Jake has fears about you fighting in your condition," I wanted to tell her that, while he had them, he acknowledged it was my fight too, and wouldn't stop me, but didn't, "so I had papers made for you and Nessie. Birth certificates. Driver's Licence. Immunization records. School transcripts. Passports. They say you're Renesmee's mother. There's about two thousand dollars in cash, and a credit card connected to a bank account in no way connected us us."

"Bella," I said slowly. I was staring at the passport, my photo next to a name and birthday and social and whatnot that wasn't mine, and blinking blinks of confusion. I didn't know what to day. I was Leah Clearwater. Leah Black. Not Leanne Wolfe, age twenty-seven. But could I be?

"Once you get to Mumbai, take a flight anywhere – except Europe – hide, somewhere where they can't find you. If we make it through this, we'll find you, somehow. If not... there's enough money in the bank account to keep you for a long while."

I looked up from the passport slowly... "I can't do this," I said. "You can't just ask me to do this, to leave my pack behind."

Ardently, stridently, passionately even, "Yes, I do! I have to! Renesmee's my daughter – my flesh and blood, my only child. I'd do anything to protect her – and I cannot let her stay here! Not if it means there's a chance the Volturi will kill her, or take her away to be studied, or demand we go with them back to Volterra to be watched, as Carlisle says they sometimes do-"

"Then take her yourself!" I said, my voice stronger now. I loved Nessie to pieces, but... "You escape with her."

Bella shook her head fiercely, the movements so quick her perfect features blurred for an instant, a dim echo of their lost human form, "Demetri – one of the Volturi's guards – is the best tracker in the world. He knows me. He could follow me, possibly. But he's not heard you, or any of the wolves. He might not even be able to follow you," like Alice couldn't see us, "and you'd be able to keep her safe... You and your children safe too."

"I'll..." I thought furiously. I couldn't leave, and let the pups – or Jake, or Seth – be hurt. Not when I might've stopped it.

"You have to Leah! For Renesmee! For your twins! I can't just stand here and watch you all get hurt because of me!" If she could cry, I think she might've. She was either very earnest in her desire to see the group of us safe, or had a bigger martyr complex then, well, anyone. "Go somewhere sunny, somewhere crowded with people to hide, or devoid of life to better spot trackers. Stay out of Europe – and probably China too, if the coven there has truly been destroyed – but just go! Keep yourselves safe!"

My eyes dropped down to the tickets once more. The first flight left tonight, ten minutes before midnight. It'd take at least four hours to get to Sea-Tac, and that was if we could catch the Kingston-Edmonds Ferry. Maybe only three if I pushed the speed limit. At least that if I ran, Nessie clinging to my back and carrying nothing but the manilla envelope, though no doubt the people at the metal scanners would look at us funny if that was the case, and we'd probably end up searched if we checked in with no luggage at all on such a long flight... And the airports liked you to be there like three hours early, and with Seattle traffic... They'd want me to leave no later than three, and it was almost time for the pack to be back from school, so it had to be three now, more or less...

If I did this, I'd have to leave now. I might never see Jacob again.

"You can't ask me to do this. You can't!"

"You have to go, Leah." She went from where she was standing to kneel by me, still sitting my the toilet, waiting for the morning sickness to overcome me. Venom she couldn't cry was sparkling behind her tawny eyes. "I beg of you. I know We might not have ever been friends, but, please, as sisters. As one mother to another."

You've got to decide, Leah...

I'm trying to think!

What's more important to you: your husband, who you can only die beside, or your babies?

I heart stalled for a moment, I think, but I could not tell around the sounds of the twins' beating their alternating rhythm thud thud, thud thud. My breath certainly caught, and I felt confused and dizzy and lost. Could I just leave? I know I'd been gone from the Rez for months; I know I've practically severed all ties with everyone that isn't a gruesome monster in their free time, and that everyone might live through this and I could bring Nessie back from wherever we'd hidden in days or, if not, come back in a few years and see if anyone was still around...

Don't you want to live? Go! Take Nessie and run! If not for her or yourself, then for your babies. You can keep them safe. The pack can live on in them...

"I packed you and Renesmee a bag. I put some old jewellery and things in there too, to sell." She took a keyring out of her pocket. It didn't have anything amusing on the ring – nothing from Star Trek, or something about penguins – just yellow tab and a long, dangling key. "Take the Audi. It's the fastest. You just have time to get there." She sped out of the room, bringing clothes to me in a blink of an eye.

I dressed stupidly, mind racing. I wanted to fight – but the what-ifs were powerful and real. What if the twins wanted to phase while we were fighting? What if I got hurt so bad it hurt the twins? Would I be able to live with myself if I lost them? Would I ever be able to have any others if that was the case? Would I ever see Jake again? What about Seth? He was my brother, but I loved him...

Did I want to do this? Didn't I?

I was in the garage. Bella was kissing Nessie goodbye. Kate was at her side, holding my hands. "You are a character, Kiwi. I will not forget you," she said, kissing both my cheeks in that French fashion.

Three hours to Sea-Tac. Sea-Tac to Seoul. Seoul to Bangkok. Bangkok to Mumbai. Mumbai to...

"I don't want to go, Aunt Leah."

"Neither do I, Ness.

"Then why are we going?"

"Because it is the best thing to do."

"Is it?"

The Twins stirred in my belly but did not phase. They did not like this any more then I did. "Sometimes running takes more bravery than fighting." I could only hope I was doing the right thing. And that I could live with myself afterwards.


	23. Whiskey

"Here must all distrust be left behind; all cowardice must be ended."

Dante Alighieri The Divine Comedy: Inferno

* * *

It was eleven thirty at night. The business class passengers were getting on the plane now. We'd been sitting outside terminal eight on the south satellite for about an hour now. Nessie and I (Nessie pretending to be my five-year-old daughter quite well, constraining herself when she asked me to buy her some boring looking new hardback to asking me via her weird though-projection way) had lingered in the airport shops, buying this and that, eating and stocking up on things to eat at fairly short intervals. But now we were waiting.

Jake hadn't called.

I thought he might, to beg me to come back. I wasn't sure he would, or I would listen if he did, but I expected him to call nonetheless. To yell at me, maybe, for not saying goodbye properly, with a parting quick one and a chance to tell me not to do anything stupid, or maybe to thank me for doing right for once in my life.

Well, I thought in that part of my mind that wasn't the traitor who'd convinced me of this mission, which was growing less and less strong with every passing moment, though not near fast enough, not "for once." I was right to join Jake's pack to begin with, and right to let myself fall in love with him. I was right to marry him, and right to make these two with him. I looked down at my stomach. That pooch barely visible, but I knew it was there. They stirred about a little, as if they knew I was paying attention to them, but stayed human foetuses for the moment. Yes, they were the best thing I had ever done. It may have been accidental and it may have been a shock, but they were part of me and part of Jake, and everything that was Jake was good, no, great, and amazing and would do well in the world, even if I was a bit of a failure.

Leanne Jocelyn Wolfe. That was who I was now, according to the paperwork. And she certainly wasn't a failure. I'd looked through the paperwork, hidden in a bathroom stall. Degree from NYU – Gender and Sexuality Studies, which I supposed you couldn't do much which, but I didn't know much about anything you could do anything with, so I supposed it worked – with a transcripts to match, and a 3.8 G.P.A. There were papers for me, saying I was born in April of '82, married "Jason Isaac Wolfe" in 2002, and birthed "Vanessa Rochelle" in January of '04, and been widowed no more than a month ago. I'd almost dropped the papers at that point, seeing the death certificate for Jake's facsimile, and fearing it would be true all too soon... I'd rolled the portent up again, and stuffed the papers into the duckling-shaped backpack I'd purchased for Nessie, and the cash, passports, and tickets into a cheap macramé purse I'd gotten for myself. Then I'd gone out the sinks, where easily a dozen women and young girls lingered, and carefully applied the make-up I'd bought as well, trying to look less like a girl who'd lived half-a-year by a rock and more like Leanne Wolfe, the college graduate from New York. "Ivy League" eye shadow, mascara, and "Ruby Spell" lipstick," each more dramatic then I'd ever have normally chosen, if I was the kind of girl who wore make-up before this. I braided my hair and pinned it into a bun. I'd already taken my grass-stained dress and exchanged it for a pair of pink sweatpants with a flower motif down one leg that near made me barf and a non-descript grey hoodie. The perfect cross a girl like Emily or Kim or Rachel would choose for long plane rides – comfy and lazy clothing, with always-perfect make-up.

In the hour of waiting, I'd painted my nails – and Nessie's - "Red-A-Go-Go" and did her hair into pigtails complete with pink ribbon. Her white dress had been changed for clothes not too different from mine, and both our dresses had been shredded and hidden in the used pad and tampon receptacle in one of the bathroom stalls on a different concourse.

The only thing we had left tying us to the pack and the Cullens was the iPhone still in my hand. It was eleven-thirty-nine now, and I could not bear to wait any longer. I dialled the number for the phone they'd given Jake, and, after three tense rings, he picked up.

"'Lo?" he said sleepily.

But how could he be sleeping at a time like this? "Jake," I whispered frantically, hopefully low enough that none of the other passengers waiting to board heard me.

"What's up, Lee? How're Sue and Charlie?"

That's what they had told him then? That I'd taken Ness to see Mom and Charlie? Overnight? And he'd believed them? Well, to be fair, he'd no reason not to, but... My voice was flat when I told him, "I'm not with Mom or Charlie."

"Bothering you already? Want me to wait up for you or-"

"I'm at Sea-Tac."

There was a pause. And then, "Why?" I think his voice crackled, but that just could've been the connection.

They were calling our section to board now. I got in the back of the line, holding Nessie's hand tightly, like any "mother" would, and holding the phone just as tightly with my other. "Long story. Bella begged me. To keep Ness and the twins safe."

"Lee-" he began hastily, but the line was moving oddly fast, or me oddly slow.

"I love you," I breathed into the phone, and shut if off. As I reached for the tickets and "my" id, Nessie took the phone and, with a movement I could not see, popped out the SIM card, tossing it into the trash can at the flight attendant's feet. On the ramp to the jumbo jet, Nessie took the phone and, in her tiny little hands, crushed it to dust, letting the pieces fall off her hands and harmlessly to the ground. Against the dark grey carpet, it was unnoticeable.

"The G.P.S. inside," she whispered to me, after holding up her arms like she wanted to be held, into my ear. She sounded sad, more sad then I'd ever heard her. "If we're going to do this, we've got to do this right."

We found 3D and 3E quickly, and took our seats. Before long, the attendants were giving us emergency landing instructions, and I was thinking grimly about how badly Ness and I would actually get hurt if the plane were to fall in a fiery ball of smoke and metal into the sea. The pair of us could probably survive if the currents weren't too bad – at least, long enough for the helicopters that would come to investigate to find us.

And then we were in the air, flying away from the pack and the Cullens and the war I should be fighting, but couldn't because Bella, for once in her whorish, dick-sucking, clam-baking life was right and that Nessie deserved to live, as did my cubs, and I couldn't let them get killed in some war that would never have happened if Irina had just girded her loins, gotten over the fact the original pack had killed her mate, and come for Christmas with the rest of her coven.

Maybe, if the Volturi came and there was no "Immortal Child," no one would die, and the crowd would disperse, and we could go back and I could see Jacob again, and Seth, and Mom, and even Kate and Charlie too. I could be back home in just a few days.

Maybe, if no child were present, they would listen to the testimony of Tanya and Kate and Carmen and Eleazaar and Mary and Paul and Charlotte and Siobhan and Maggie and the rest. Maggie knew lies when she heard them, and they couldn't doubt that. And didn't one of the leeches say that one of the old wrinkly leaders could read all your thoughts with a touch? If so many had the same thoughts, maybe they wouldn't kill them all... and Zafrina could make illusions too, so she could make it out as if there were much more of them then there actually were, so they'd have to pause...

Or maybe they'd think they'd destroyed the "child" already, and would leave them be...

Or maybe they'd say that the Cullens had threatened their "peace" and "civilization" with gathering twenty-one blood-suckers, besides themselves, to one place, and kill them anyway.

Or maybe they'd let the Cullens live, but since they, apparently, didn't like werewolves much, would just kill the pack...

I could play the what-if game better then anyone, and my horrible fear of the future, once reserved for possible imprints visiting La Push from Belize or Trinidad, created battles and death scenes taken from every movie I'd ever seen.

At least you got to say goodbye to Jake, that annoying part of my brain thought, and you are carrying his children. The future of the pack. Maybe the future Alpha. Maybe two boys, ones you can name Jacob and Henry, for their father and grandfather. Maybe two girls, sisters for Nessie, that you can name Susan and Sarah, for their grandmothers. Or one of each. Think of them. You're keeping them safe.

But I didn't know if I wanted to be safe, not when Jake wasn't going to be. Not when I'd left my little brother in danger. Hadn't I always looked out for him? I'd beaten up bullies more than once for his sake, and had joined our Olympic pack to keep him safe.

You can't just think about yourself any more: you're going to be a mother. You're already Nessie's adopted mom. Who'll take care of her without you? She may be more or less able to do so, but who in their right mind would let an apparent toddler wonder around by herself? Think of the cubs – imagine them! That'll make them real! Think! Chubby-cheeked baby boys with Jake's dark, never-ending eyes and a smile like yours, when you use it, that everyone says was taken straight from Mom that'll grow up in to tall, handsome, strong bronzed men with the same way of shaking the hair out of their eyes that Seth does... They'll live on through you!

But I don't want them to "live on"! I want them to live!

The attendant was serving drinks, and I went through several servings of ginger ale, unable to quell my thirst or stomach. Nessie explained it to the harassed-looking woman by saying, "The baby in Mummy's tummy make her sick lots," which earned me smile and Nessie a packet of animal crackers for being, "Such a good big sister already."

Think! It insisted. Think of baby girls with wisps of hair the same colour as yours, as Jake's, and caramel-coloured eyes! Think of them growing up with Nessie, playing together like real sisters! Think of the beautiful women they'll be... you've seen yourself in the mirror, when you take the time to make yourself presentable. You're beautiful, and nothing more amazing then Jake exists in the world; they'll be beautiful.

But I don't want beautiful babies if Jake isn't here to raise them with me.

The flight was twelve hours, and Nessie sat quietly, if not contentedly, beside me the whole time. I knew her thoughts were centred around the same things, and could do no more to comfort her then I could calm myself – surely a bad start to my attempts at motherhood.

I tried to think... If there would end up being vampires coming after us, as Bella had feared there might be, they'd be able to trace where we'd gone through the tickets, if they knew what we looked like and were able to get the security camera feeds from Sea-Tac. I didn't know the Volturi's capabilities or their level of obsession, I couldn't take any chances. Not if I was going to do this properly. When we got off at ICN, we'd have to leave behind our bags and get off the terminal. Let our bags go to Bangkok and Mumbai, and take a different airline... Delta, or... No! We would get off and we'd go to every ticket counter they had and get two tickets to bright, sunny places from each of them. Johannesburg, Sydney, Melbourne, Alexandria, Jerusalem... Buy tickets at every counter with the credit card Bella gave me, and get as much cash out as we could, and just pick one of them and go, and take a bus or train or something hours away from that city, and maybe another plane, and then...

I can't do this!

You have to do this!

No! I was going half-mad, I think, unable to sleep for the thoughts running through my head, though I'd easily been up the better part of two days now, and there were too many babies crying and old men coughing and low hums from iPods and mp3 players of music that would have been slightly distracting to anyone else and were a tangled cacophony to my ears. I felt ill, either from morning or air sickness, and dazed and hormones were all a jumble in me, telling me different things. I am Leah Clearwater! I've never run from things before, and I don't plan to start now!

Too late too late too late, part of my mind echoed, while the annoying part said more sensibly, it's already started. Bella wouldn't have sent you away right then if she didn't think the Volturi would be there soon.

This is Bella we're talking about. Brain the size of a crumb too small for even a mouse.

You have to-

I don't "have to" do anything-

They might already be dead.

They might not be.

If they're not, it's only to die soon. The Volturi killed Kate's sire, remember? They murdered her for creating an Immortal Child. They would have killed Kate and Tanya and Irina if they'd known about the kid. But they know about Nessie, as does everyone else there, and none of the others have tried to tell them about it, or kill her themselves. The Volturi will kill everyone. There's no hope!

I was sitting in my seat, Nessie on the inside of the middle aisle, a heavy and snoring man on her other. There was a children's book open in her lap, but on the inside was an issue of Harper's Magazine. The tray was down in front of me, half-a-glass of ginger ale and an untouched packet of cheese crackers. All around me, people were sitting, reading, sleeping, watching in-flight movies or just waiting. I felt unbearably warm in the coldness of the air plane, and the sound of the engine was ridiculously loud.

A kid, about Judith and Zack's age, was listening to English lessons on his iPod not to far away. His parents were stirring, looking at their watches and starting to get their things together. I guess it meant that we were almost at Seoul. I didn't know, and had been far from paying attention. But it was one of those learn-English-by-studying-speeches things that was popular overseas, or, at least, so the TV had told me. And, almost in response, to my thoughts, the boy nudged the volume up just enough so I could make it out clearly over the buzz from everything else, "...the bedrock of this nation; the belief that our destiny will not be written for us; by all those men and women who are not content to settle for the world as it is; who have the courage to remake the world as it should be..." before the captain's voice came over the PA, saying we'd be landing at ICN within the next twenty minutes, and that local time was currently three-fifty-three in the morning, two days after we'd left Seattle.

We shouldn't've had to be forced out of our homes by some bully that didn't understand that, sometimes, the world didn't go according to plan. In fact, they'd the same penguin-pecking problem as Sam "I'm Too 'Sexy' For a Brain" Uley! They couldn't get it into their heads that they weren't the biggest kahunas out there. They wanted everyone to follow them and, when they said jump, the rest of us were supposed to ask how fucking high.

Kate had said they were older than anybody, except maybe the Romanians. But the actual Volturi had been around for as long as anyone could remember... everyone said since about 1800 or 1700 B.C. That was about the same as the Romanians, though no one could be really sure 'cause no one really had a universal calendar until much later. They were old and powerful and surrounded themselves with powerful vampire guards – there was no doubt about that – but, maybe...

The plane landed, and as soon as we'd disembarked, I'd picked up Ness and walked as fast as I could without attracting stares out of the terminal and to the ticket counters. She showed me an image of my original plan, tickets to Amsterdam and Beirut and Kuala Lumpur flashing quickly through my mind, as I jogged, but I didn't answer. I just got in the shortest line, even though it was for Gold Star members or some other horse-fucking shit, and said, before the woman asked to see my membership card, for the fastest way back to Sea-Tac that she could get me.

She asked for my membership card. "Damn it!" I said, feeling the twins share my rage and Nessie's hand, now reaching up to touch my arm from where I'd set her down at my feet, sending questioning images at me, as well as warning for getting angry enough the twins might want to phase. "Look, I know it's rude, and technically you're not allowed to do it, and you might get in trouble, but I just got off flight twenty-four fifty-eight from Seattle and checked my voice mail, and there's been a terrible accident," I lied, "and the doctors say he probably won't make it, and I have to get back as soon as possible, so please," I begged the woman behind the counter. "I'll pay anything, any fees – I'll even become a member if that's what it takes – just get me home before it's too late!"

I was drawing a few stares, and one woman, waiting in line for the next counter, pulled a packet of Kleenex out of her Louis Vuitton purse and handed it to me. I dabbed my eyes absent-mindedly, all my attention on the the woman at the counter. She looked like she did not need this, but, seeing "my" driver's licence, credit card, and the passports I'd thrown on the counter, collected these and quickly typed. A moment later, she handed me a computer print-out with a temporary membership card on it a brochure on being a premium member. As I pulled the Kleenex away to collect these from her, I was surprised to find it was damp, and smudges of the mascara I'd applied so carefully two days or maybe only fifteen hours ago...

"Thank you," I said earnestly to both the woman behind the counter and the one with the expensive bag.

"Seattle-Tacoma Airport?"

I nodded. Nessie seemed more and more confused, the images she was sending me – scenes from cartoons and old movies with people with question marks floating over their head – but also seemed to be happy with my decision, if she was reading it right, and scent me pictures of people hugging in gratitude. And pictures of both our families and our friends.

"The quickest way Mrs-?"

"Wolfe," I remembered to answer.

"Mrs. Wolfe is a non-stop flight leaving in two hours. There's also a flight leaving in forty-minutes, for LAX that I could-"

My mind worked, trying to calculate the distances... leave eighty minutes later, with a two hour drive if I gunned the Audi (left in the long-term parking structure) and encountered no police... or take a flight to Los Angles, rent a car, and drive how long to Forks? Could I drive fast enough the what? Eleven, twelve hundred miles to make it worth it?

Bella had insisted on sending me away that night. Or the night before last. Whatever the fuck you wanted to call it with the idiotic international dateline making things so stupidly complicated. But it had been then, meaning she'd reason to think the Volturi were coming soon, even taking into account Bella's inherent stupidity and failure to acknowledge the consequences of her actions. Maybe she'd a call from Alice, who'd seen something and managed to find a signal somewhere in Brazil she could use. Maybe Edward had already heard their thoughts coming, and we'd left just in time. I do not know, but she had a reason. So time was of the essence, and no matter how many land speed records I broke, the later flight was still the best way to go.

"The non-stop one, please."

She nodded, and a moment later swiped "my" credit card. Slowly, trying to remember the letters, I signed, Leanne Wolfe, and then there were two crisp tickets in my hand. "Terminal Nineteen," she said. "Follow the bridge down... right at the end of the hall. You can't miss it."

"Thank you." I felt about to sink with emotion.

If I wasn't a werewolf, I wouldn't have heard her whisper, "I hope you make it in time."

Oh, God! Yes! Let us be in time! Let the Volturi not have come yet! Let everyone still be safe! Let this, my biggest mistake of my life, become the worst as well! Cat-tossing, mouse-riding, armadillo-drinking, peacock-bagging hell, let everyone be alright!

I could call, get a phone card, find a pay phone-

-but I didn't know the international calling codes. Nessie might-

-but what if Bella or Kate picked up? What would I say? Would they talk me out of it? I'd still the tickets for the next leg of the journey, to Bangkok, and, if I remembered correctly, it was leaving from terminal twenty-one twenty minutes after ours back to Sea-Tac. We could still change our minds... it wasn't too late... I could be brave, and do the right thing, and take Nessie somewhere we'd be safe...

But I couldn't be brave! It wasn't cowardice, or fear, or anything else I could name, it was just the right thing, whatever you wanted to call it. If the pack and the Cullens were going to stand before the Volturi, well, fuck it all, I was going to stand by them.

We were in a coffee shop by the terminal, several ceran-wrapped tipple chocolate muffins and large, whip-cream-topped hot chocolates in front of us that I don't remember ordering or paying for and doubt Nessie could have done, pretending to be five and all. But I suppose I must have. I feel dizzy and lost, not sure if I'm doing the right thing, with no parent or friend or some wise person beside me to tell me it'll be alright. Is this how adults feel all the time, like lost little children, waiting for someone to tell them they're doing the right thing? I don't know if I can handle it if it is. I never want to grow up if I have to feel like this all my life.

Quietly, quickly, "I thought you said running away was the bravest thing, Aunt Leah."

"It is," I told her, slowly pulling at the plastic wrapping around one of the muffins. It didn't want to come undone, hidden inside its protective hole, but it needed to be... It's purpose in life was to be eaten, and mine to eat it...

Holy-fucking mother-of-God! I'm finding meaning in muffins now. Something is wrong with me. Or with the muffins. I dunno. But I need to get home, where muffins don't try to tell me the meaning of life, which stays carefully hidden away in a corner where I don't have to think about it.

"Does that mean we're cowards for going home?"

I shook my head, still picking at the plastic wrap.

"What does it mean, then?"

I shrugged.

Taking the muffin away from me, Nessie deftly unwrapped it under the table and passed it back, ready for me to eat. "If we must die, O let us nobly die, so that our precious blood may shed in vain; then even the monster we defy shall be constrained to honour us, though dead," she whispered. Then, seeing my expression, said, "It's a poem by Claude McKay."

"No," I shook my head, suddenly filled with an idea "That's not why we're going back."

She tilted her head confusedly, picking at her own muffin. "Then why?"

"'Cause we would rather fight and die beside those we love then live without them."

Nessie thought about this, then nodded, whispering once more, "Love is watching someone die."

I picked at my own muffin, and together we waited in the unfamiliar airport, watching the clock for six-ten, to travel back in time, to yesterday, and hoping that we were not too late


	24. X-Ray

"We've travelled too far, and our momentum has taken over; we move idly towards eternity,  
without possibility of reprieve or hope of explanation."

Guildenstern in Tom Stoppard's Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead

* * *

I was trying very very hard not to yell at the customs agent, which I decided would probably be a bad idea. "What is your purpose?"

I'd not slept at all since before Bella had foisted the tickets upon me. We had ended up leaving Thursday, just before midnight, and now it was two in the morning on Saturday, technically four hours before we'd left Seoul... I had spent this time in deep, emotional thought, further harried by a flux of semi-human hormones seeing to it that the twins I carried were growing at something like twice the normal rate of growth. I felt tired, nauseous, bleary-eyed, and filled with fear, adrenaline, and ginger ale.

"I'm going home," I said, with as much calmness as I could. It wasn't much.

"You're passport says you only left... barely a day ago, on a twelve hour flight."

Tight jawed, "I was going to visit friends in Seoul, and had just landed when I got a voice mail that Vanessa's father had been in an accident, and we needed to get home quickly because he might not make it."

"Accident?"

"Yes, car accident. And he might be dead already, only I can't get reception in here to check my phone, all I know is that we took the first fight back we could find. Didn't even leave the airport."

"Did you bring any perishable items with you-?"

I pulled a bag of M&Ms out of my purse. "That is the only thing I brought with me, and I bought it here, on Thursday when it was my intent to visit friends in Seoul I've not seen since graduation. The only thing I bought in Seoul was a pair of tickets back here." Nessie tugged on my pant leg. I gave an internal sigh, and then, "Forgive me if I'm being rude, but I can't help but think it's cruel of you to make us go through all of this when her father is in the hospital, dying from what little I've heard, and-!"

At last, we were waved through. And I didn't even need to threaten to sue.

Nonetheless, I picked up Nessie and started jogging to the exit to the parking structures. Once outside, I broke into an all out run, reaching the Audi in no time (thank you God and Dad for the werewolf genes) and all but throwing ourselves into it. We were going fifty before we'd even exited the parking structure, and I'd gunned the engine south, not trusting the ferry to be open at this time of night, and taking the long way around the Puget Sound, crossing it at the Tacoma Narrows Bridge and speeding through sleeping city streets.

"Breathe, Aunt Leah," Nessie insisted, curling up in the front seat. "Remember to breathe. We'll be of no help to anyone if you have an anxiety attack and crash the car before we get home."

I was trembling, whether from exhaustion or fear or from the twins wanting me to phase, I do not know. "Your mother is an idiot. An elephant-eating, hamster-hanging, kelp-catching, balloon-banging, grape-garrotter who I was an idiot to listen to in the first place. She probably had Esme drug me. Or drugged me herself when I wasn't looking. And I'm hormonal! I shouldn't be expected to make life-altering decisions in a snap!" Rage was better then worrying about what had happened during our foray into the future... or, would happen, or had yet to happen, whatever the proper order of things was any more.

Understandingly – and, most annoyingly, sounding like a TV psychologist about to ask me "how that makes me feel," - she said from her half-sleeping place, "She was afraid."

"Fear leads anger. Anger leads to hatred. Hatred leads to suffering. Mainly mine." A quick, stupid thought flew into my head, one that said that Bella hadn't been sending us off for our own safety, but getting rid of us because she'd finally realized what a douche-bag her mind-reading, unpractising homosexual husband was and wanted Jake to "take her back," not that they'd ever been together... I shook that thought out of my head so hard it made black spots dance before my eyes. Bella was many kinds of whore, but an idiotic one. She couldn't have planned something so devious if she tried. "Remind me to fill all her shoes with tapioca when we get back, and, you know, haven't been killed by Italians with awful taste in clothing."

"Why tapioca?" she asked absent-mindedly. Maybe she was wondering what we'd find when we got to Forks. Jake and Seth and Kate and all the rest could be dead... Or the Volturi could be there, in the process of leaving until we show up, and kill us all the moment we arrive. Or they could just be almost there, ready to kill us all, and we'd have come back just to be killed by them. And we'd have been so close to escape, only to-

No! No, Leah! Don't think about that. Think about... Think about other things. Like how it's better to go back and know, then never know what might have happened to my pack, my family. Like how it was Nessie's fight for existence, this war, and she deserved to be there to fight it – like she was the only one who could fight it, in her own way. Like how I can't live without Jake, and might well have imprinted on him for all I need him in my life. Like how it might be the death of me and my babies, but at least we'd die beside my husband, their father. Like how the pack was the pack, and we were never to be separated, no matter how how much Embry might be a jerk sometimes, or Quil drove us all mad with his Claire talk, or it was annoying to have my little brother around allthe fucking time, or have the pups to take care of now too. We were family. And the family that goes to war together stays together.

God! Holy sweet God! By Q'wati, who the Elders tell us created the Quiluetes by transforming two wolves into people, and because of this we would always be brave and strong. By Bayaq and T'ist'ilal, and every other god out of the myths and legends! Let them be alive!

The pups had to live, because Mr. Mora had trusted me to keep Matthew and Judith alive, and they were like my second-cousins-in-law, so I owed it to the family to see that they stayed that way. Alive, that is. And Zack was too – the second cousin part, not the in-law – and was sweet on Judith in a way that I couldn't deny. They were all so young besides. I couldn't let them die, not at fourteen, and especially not at twelve. I was their pseudo-mother while we were at the rock, their Aunt Leah, and I'd just gone off and left them without so much as a goodbye. I shouldn't have done that. They didn't deserve that. Matty I think would make a great teacher, like his dad, and Judy would be good at anything she did, and Zack, well, I don't know him as well as the other two, 'cause he's kinda silent like Embry and I think would be something of an outcast at the Rez school if Judith didn't like him so much. They deserved their chances to finish school and fall in love and do something with their lives – it wasn't their fault we hadn't caught up with Irina Christmas night, or that the only way to protect ourselves was to bring in more leeches.

And if the pups had to live, so did Quil, 'cause they'd need someone to take care of them, and, when I wasn't pseudo-mothering them, telling them to do their homework and pick the leaves out of their hair before school and stay on the border when we ran (my afternoon shift, the least dangerous one for the moment, largely being taken up by keeping an eye on the three as we ran; Jake had moved to share Embry's morning shift, and Quil and Seth still ran evenings, or so it'd been for the last few weeks), it was Quil. The new Beta, he'd been given the task of teaching them how to fight, largely because he had the patience to do so. And Quil needed to live for Claire, even if she was what? Four now? No – her birthday wasn't 'til March. Or maybe May. It was certainly the eighteenth of one of those months. Claire was a sweetheart, even if she was Emily's niece. Stupid Emily. What kinda name is Emily anyway? Why, if one of the twins is a girl, I'll not be naming her Emily or anything like that, that doesn't sound like a nickname. Or anything as terrible as Renesmee. Buffy – after Buffy the Vampire Slayer – would be hilarious, but I'm not sure I'd want my kid having a joke as a name... and plus it sounds like a nickname, just like Emily.

And that insanity aside, if Quil lived, Embry would have to, 'cause the two are like best buds or something, and if it weren't for Claire, I'd be screaming "Bromance!" to the hills. But Beth Call really doesn't deserve to have her only son killed by vampires. It's bad enough that Embry's father probably was Joshua Uley and ran out on her like he ran out on Sam's mom. You just don't go around killing women-who-have-been-walked-out-on's sons. It's just not kosher. And Embry needed a chance to get over the worst of his leech hatred, at least enough to embrace Esme's cooking. I mean, if I'm putting up with leeches, so can he.

And if Quil and Embry are going to live, then Seth had better, because he like adores them or something, and he is my brother. My baby brother. Rules say I have to die before him. That's how the world works. He has to be the one to bury me, if any of us end up getting buried, if someone finds our bodies strewn across the Cullen's baseball field. Besides, Mom would throw a fit if he went, and might go crazy and do something stupid, like have replacement kids with Charlie, and that's just gross. And he's still not asked Ruth what's-her-face out. Now that I've been paying more attention, it's easy to see he's muzzle-over-tail for her. She's in his English class and they have lunch the same period, and is apparently like a chemistry whiz, because he has that class with her too and, even though they get to choose their own partners, he always sat at the lab set up behind her. He talked to her, knew her well even, but never had asked her to be his lab partner, let alone on a date. He needed the chance to live, so he could, so even if she said no (which she'd be a fool to be; I mean, I know I'm his sister and everything, but even I know he's adorable. In a grown-up, masculine way, of course. And he's not an absolute idiot, and has a skill, even if it's not a marketable one, but it's a skill. And we have a rock, which is more then most high school seniors have), have that opportunity. He had to live because, if he didn't, I think I might actually go crazy. Seth's just always been there, you know? He's my little brother. I've always kept him safe, watched him, made sure he didn't stick his tongue to flagpoles on snowy days, that sort of thing. He'd always been so happy, so ridiculously happy, and sometimes I'd honestly thought that there was some sort of container inside Mom marked "Happiness" and another marked "Bitchiness" and, rather then take more or less the same from each jar, I'd taken all the "Bitchiness," leaving only "Happiness" for Seth when he came along later. Or something like that. I wanted to see him graduate at last, and maybe go to Mount Rainer Tech and get a degree in something that would let him work somewhere besides the cannery or an a tourist boat on the sound. Maybe we could all go and get degrees in forestry or something and become park rangers at the Olympic National Park. We'd be the best rangers ever...

And, of course, if they lived, Jake had to live too, 'cause someone had to lead them, and Jake was a good Alpha. Perhaps the greatest there'd ever been, but I knew nothing about Ephraim Black or those who came before, so I settled on the best Alpha I'd ever known. He was nice, and cared about he pack and their opinions, and never Alpha-commanded us to do anything, and was willing to do anything for us, like tell his English teacher about his secret life as a wolf, just so we could all be together. On the boyfriend/husband/mate level, he was just amazing. Like make a cast of him, fill it with gold, and worship it amazing: a) He had an amazing body, from eight-pack to arms to everything else there was to have, b) he knew me and loved me and didn't care if I was a bitch or a hormonal wreck who'd shouted at him the day before we left because he'd forgotten the soy sauce or cried over spilt ice cream or hung out with Ness and Kate more then anyone should and lied to customs officers who were only doing their job, c) when he kissed me, it made me feel like a Goddess, worshipped because I was divine, and deserved everything he offered, which was everything he had, d) when he touched me, it was like heaven, because his hands lit me on fire with the simplest of touches, and my hand in his or his cupping my breasts or his muzzle brushing against mine were all the same, all equally full of passion and devotion and intense and unalterable love, e) we'd gotten married, and though he had to have known all the same reasons I did for why we shouldn't, at least not then, he'd ignored them because he wanted to be with me, for ever and ever, and didn't care about convention or anything besides what we wanted, f) when we found out I was pregnant, he'd been shocked, yes, but mostly happy, happier then I'd even seen Seth, and he would've spun me into a dance if he'd thought I'd put up with it, g) ditto for finding out I was carrying twins, h) double ditto for when they started phasing, i) lather, rinse; repeat. He had to live, 'cause I might go the Juliet route if he didn't (or was it Romeo? I'd always hated that play and didn't pay much attention during those classes after realizing Juliet wasn't yet fourteen at the time of her "romance"). I wasn't saying I couldn't live without him, just that I didn't want to. He'd awoken parts of me I thought I'd long destroyed. Jake needed to be alive for the twins, who I refused to have never know their father. He needed to be alive to beat up Bella for me, 'cause I was honestly too tired to destroy at this moment.

If I could run faster then the Audi, I would. If I could fit it through the spaces in the trees and drive straight through the Olympic National Forest, I would. But I can't, so it is all I can do to hope that they are alive, and, if not, that I've enough tears for my sorrow.

It could've been hours or seconds later when I answered Nessie. "It's the most annoying pudding," but she was asleep, the poor thing, and my only response was the static of the radio as I searched for a something to calm my frayed nerves. I found nothing but a warning for severe weather and shut it off again, travelling in silence until I a sign whizzed by that said "Welcome to Fairholm" and another soon after that proclaimed Forks to be only twenty-nine miles away. I was almost there.

The digital clock glowed a soft acid green as it flickered to twelve-past-five.

I gunned the engine a little harder, hoping against hope that Charlie was busy with my bother tonight and not patrolling the sleepy streets, the – the what? anticipation? fear? dread? terror? melancholy? were there words enough to describe what I was feeling? maybe one of those quasi-mystical words they only have in German and Portuguese Nessie once told me about, saudade I think it is – feeling in me spreading trails like lightening through my veins, so I could feel it clapping in me with each too-fast beat of my heart. Nessie, still asleep beside me, was whimpering quietly, and no gentle touch on the arm or mangled "Rock-a-bye Baby" could settle her, and though I could not bear to see her suffer, I could not make myself wake her quite yet.

And then the turn-off for the driveway, taken fast enough that we fishtailed the first quarter-mile around the sharp twists and bends in the narrow lane.

And then (heart pounding so it was all I could hear, breaths coming shallow and sharp; nerves burning with electric fires) we were slamming to a stop in their yard beside twin white Jeeps, looking at the manor before us, glowing with warm yellow light pouring from nearly every window, shadows of figures occasionally crossing the light.

We were back.

They were still alive.

I turned off the car and sat there for one breath, two, trying to take in the reality, dismissing all the fears that had crowded my mind. My heart was thudding madly, and the twins, doggy-paddling in my stomach, settled into treading water. Instinctively, in a motion I'd never have imagined myself doing, I released one clenching hand from the steering wheel and lowered it to that low place on my belly where they grew. "It's okay, guys," I whispered. "They're okay. We're okay." Then, slowly, I put my hand on the door handle and pulled.

The air was sharp, and tiny flakes of snow here starting to fall, melting an inch or two before they hit me. I began to turn towards the passenger side, to get sleeping Ness, but Edward was already there, the door open and his daughter in his arms. He was clutching Renesmee tightly, and I think he was saying something about how glad he was that we were back. If I'd been in proper frame of mind, I'd've realized then that this was the most emotion I'd ever seen from the blood-sucker. But I wasn't, only dimly registering that Bella had, apparently, not told her husband of her plans either. The rest of me was intent on looking, sniffing, feeling through the darkness for-

And there, hastily coming out of the woods, Embry three steps behind him. My legs found secreted strength as I rushed towards him, and a moment later I was wrapping my arms around him, burying my face in his shoulder as he put arms on my waist and spun me to discharge our momentum.

"I couldn't do it," I said over and over again. "I tried, but I couldn't leave you." He was holding me tightly, saying how I was forbidden from ever trying anything like that again, and it felt so good to be with him again, because with him I knew we had a chance, because I would rather fight and die beside him then live the rest of my life without him, because he was so perfect and I was just Leah, always Leah, and could never be that Leanne Wolfe with her perfect make-up and 3.8 G.P.A., no matter how hard I tried. Trying to explain, "We got to Seoul, but I just couldn't go through with it, and-" and I was babbling from all the confused emotions, making no sense at all I'm sure, and, if Major Care Bear had been here, I'm sure he'd be overwhelmed and begging for a Valium. God knows I was.

"No!" came a shout from the doorway to the Cullen's house, and we all whipped around to stare at the figure, nothing more than a shadowy outline against the light from inside, but none of us really needed to see to know who it was. "No! You can't-!"

Edward was moving at human pace towards his wife, but I was already turning around in Jake's grasp and shouting, "You bitch!" I pulled out of his arms to stalk towards her, my relief at being home fading as fury overtook me. "You cock-sucking, bat-banging, shit-eating, drug-whoring bitch! What right have you – what God-damn right – to show up at people's doors with falsified documents begging them to save your child?" (I was less than then feet from her now, as she'd walked towards me, the look on her appalled and anxious face making me hate her more and more). "You fucking think people will do everything for you, princess, and I'm sick and tired of it! 'Oh, I want to be a vampire, but I still want kids,' and, 'Oh, Charlie doesn't matter, no matter how much he'd done for me,' and, 'Oh, let's trick Leah into going to Mumbai with my kid, la-de-da-de-da!' I mean, what the fucking hell is going through your head, Swan, or are you just that retarded? Did your parents just drop you on your head a lot as a baby, or did what little tarty slice of brain you had dry up when you decided you'd rather live forever then be alive? I mean, when you fucking drop things on people like that, it tends make it hard to think about how stupid it all fucking is!"

Bella seemed to quiver for a moment, lip trembling with words unspoken, before finally she said, "I was trying to keep my daughter safe."

"By God's fucking striped leotard-!" I began, but she was still talking, pointing out, "It's Cullen, not Swan," and for some reason this annoyed me more than anything else she'd done to me. Yes, she'd sent us away, but it was to try to keep Nessie and the twins safe. I could understand that. Yes, she'd sprung it on us, but that was to make sure I did what she asked. I could understand that, in a way, too. But hadn't she already given up enough to her supercentenarian statue of a husband? Wasn't it enough she'd forfeited her mortality, her family, her friends, everything she used to be for him? That I couldn't understand. So what if she'd changed her name from "Swan" to "Cullen"? She was still Isabella Swan by birth, and that would remain until the day the world ended or someone, mercifully, killed her, whatever other names she might take.

I flung myself at her, phasing mid-air, the stupid pink sweatpants and pullover lost confetti in the thickening snowfall. I reached her before she'd time to react, the lily-livered piece of dingbat dung, and pinned her quickly to the ground, scratching at her chest and shoulders with bright red nails, and feeling satisfaction when – at last! - I felt one, no, two claws sink into the flesh of her left shoulder, right below the clavicle on her left side. So what if she was an animal-drinking vampire? So what if she was Charlie's daughter, Nessie's mother? She was an idiot who could have cost me everything, all because she'd wanted to be a Cullen and damned the consequences. Look around you! I screamed, See what you've done to all of us! To Matty and Judith and Zack! To the pack! To your Denali cousins, to your family, to all the other vampires that might die here tomorrow! The foetuses inside me fought too, clawing at my womb in attempt to get at the one who'd angered me so, and my anger was their anger, spectacular and unstoppable.

I'd made a two-inch laceration down her side before the others reached me, Edward with ice-cold hands snarling and pulling his wife back, and Jake, phased, at my side, forcing me away. It's not worth it! he told me forcing me farther and farther back, trying not to hurt me but unwilling to let me make a war out of the issue. Bella may be Bella, but it's not worth the trouble killing her would cause.

Yes it is! I protested, blindly at first, and then weakly, reaching the porch railings and having no where more to go, She's responsible for all of this! She's the reason behind everything that's gone wrong these last two, three years! If it wasn't for her, things would've gone on as they had before with the leeches, and there'd have been none of this trouble and none of these wars or problems or anything... Tired, so tired, I flopped myself down next to the foundation plants and rested my head on my paws, still covered with sick-smelling vampire's blood. Everything would've been just fine without her...

Glancing back over his shoulder, as if to see what the leeches would do, or maybe indicate something to Embry, it was with a slightly sad look that he turned back to me. Maybe, maybe not, Jake said, moving to curl up next to me. But at least we're together again... Don't ever leave like that again, I'll make that a command if I have-

I won't, I promised, just let me sleep and, when we wake up, maybe this will all just have been some bad dream...

I wish... Everyone's been watching the weather channel all day. They say that the biggest snow since '96 is coming... And, he didn't need to add, with it, the Volturi...


	25. Yankee

"Revolution is not a dinner party, nor an essay, nor a painting, nor a piece of embroidery;  
it cannot be advanced softly, gradually, carefully, considerately, respectfully, politely, plainly, and modestly.  
A revolution is an insurrection, an act of violence by which one class overthrows another."

Mao Zedong

* * *

The sugar-and-flowers smell of many leeches, with undertones of sand and snow and bitter herbs, suffused everything. Stirring slightly, I could feel a body sitting beside me – hot, almost running as high as I was, and was very piney, and very earthy, and very comforting to be around. Closing my eyes again, I burrowed closer with my blankets to the source of the wonderful smell.

"How do you like the name Luke?"

"I'm trying to sleep here, Kate."

"Well, everyone's being all serious downstairs, and making a big deal over the snow and the Rumunie downstairs... Freaky lot, Vladimir and Stefan. Tanya and Sasha and I ran into them once about twenty years after I was created. Creepy old buggers even then. Not to bad, I guess, to have around if you're going against the Volturi, but still, they give me the shivers. Used to take humans, drain them slowly on metal benches, and drink their blood from gold goblets. That's what Sasha said Aisha, her creator, said they used to do, or had heard from her sire that's what they did. Still, they were bad enough to generate the worst sort of rumours, and made the Volturi look civilized compared to them. Good in a fight, I'd imagine, and they're still angry over them killing their covenmates all those centuries ago... But, my point is that everyone, even Tanya, is being serious and it's boring me so much I wish I could sleep through it, and nobody wants to watch Star Wars with me, and so now, Jake, I'm asking you, how do you like the name Luke for one of your twins?"

"One, 'Luke Black' sounds horrible and, second, if the next name you're going to suggest is Leia, I'm going to find a cross and-" There was the clinking of metal and, then, slowly, "While I realize that a crucifix nor any of the other religious symbols out there will harm you, it is the point of the threat that matters. Which is, no to the name Luke, a hardy no to Leia, and a putting of Star Wars watching until I'm awake enough to see straight."

He yawned, making me, still partially asleep, yawn too. "Too bad," I said, yawning again, "I liked the name Luke too. Why you have to have such a troublesome last name, Black?"

"It's yours now too, you know."

"Nuh-uh," I said petulantly, pulling myself into a half-sitting position beside Jake. Jacob. My friend and my Alpha and my lover and the father of my children. Who smelled so good they should bottle his sweat or something and make the next Axe body wash out of it. Who went through who knew what hell while I was gone. It'd almost killed me to leave him...

As if sensing my thoughts, he bent his head down enough for me to capture his lips in mine without hurting myself. They were hard and desperate at first, his lips chapped and rough (not that I cared), but became slower and deeper with time, our tongues meeting, dancing, tasting; one of his large, warm hands rested just above my hip, curving around the side of my bare torso, palm resting on the bulge in my belly that was too round and high to be confused with anything but a child growing underneath. Two children, shifting a little as I kissed their father, but not phasing, or doing really anything but saying, "Mom, it's nice Dad's back and all, but do you have to be so gross in front of us?" and going back to their own technocolour dreams. I half expected one of these days to be in wolf form with them and start hearing their thoughts.

When we, at last, broke apart, Kate was nowhere to be seen, though her scent lingered and we were both breathing heavily. But even the simple touch of Jake's lips on mine had done more to remind me that I was home, that I'd be here to live – or die – with Jake and my pack, and that it wasn't all some strange dream but real, so real that it hurt to remember how hard it'd been to force myself on that plane, to fly to Seoul without knowing if I'd ever see him again...

I reached up and began to play with his dark, shaggy hair. "It might be time to think about a hair cut."

Jacob wouldn't have that though, and gently tugged my hand from his now chin-length hair. "You have no idea how much I missed you," he said slowly, running a thumb along the soft, sensitive skin of my palms. Every nerve in my body was magnetized to his touch, surging towards the place where he held my hand.

"I know I should've stayed gone... kept the twins safe at least... but I couldn't leave you. Not even for that..."

"I-"

But he got no more out, 'cause I took his hand, still caressing mine, and put it where you could feel the twins start to kick, if they chose to. "We really do need to start thinking about names." I could feel his curiosity rising as I said this, as well as a tinge of hope. I'd never talked about names before, not willingly. We'd never talked about the future at all, even before the business with the Volturi started and we still thought we'd a chance at one. And for me to be the one to bring it up... "For the twins. Not Luke or Leia, of course, but something that we both like. Or we could each pick a boy and a girl's name and go from there. Or we could ask Billy – you know he'd be thrilled – or Kate to find anything not absolutely insane. And we need to figure what we're going to do about everything, 'cause as cool as the rock is, we can't raise children there, and maybe see about a proper wedding... one for our families and friends to get all worked up over. I'll even wear a stupid marshmallow dress if that's what Alice wants – 'cause you know she'll start planning one as soon as she finds out, and will shamelessly rent us the Taj Mahal and fly food in from Paris if that's what she thought would make a perfect wedding... And I never want to go anywhere without you ever again, even if that means I have to chain you to me..." My hand raised to the necklace he'd given me – the one with the dog-tag on it – and continued, "And we need to get you one of these. With the proper phone number on it. And-"

Jake kissed me again, on the forehead this time. I could feel the upturned corners of his lips brushing against my still energized skin. "Edward thinks the Volturi will kill us eventually if we don't kill them first. We might not have to worry about a future at all."

"Well, that's lovely. I'm personally thinking we take over the manor. Big, in the woods, furniture and everything. We start with the top floor and work our way down..." I started to struggle out of the blankets and look for clothes, "We can steal Emmett's pudding gun and-"

There came an exasperated sigh from under the bed the moment my feet touched the floor, and a slinking noise as Kate, strangely, climbed out from under it. Strangely, a small silver cross – the kind that isn't more than a thumbnail in size – clung on a short, near-invisible chain around her neck. I'd never seen it there before. I'd never even given thought that, despite it all, Kate might actually be religious, not just using biblical stories to annoy people. Then again, her cousin the Grand Prince whatever was a saint for forcibly converting people. Maybe it was force of habit. Or show for the Volturi. Maybe they were religious... "Przez Boga, wy dwóchare at it like psy w upaleall the time and you never let me watch and there are no other werewolves out there płeć istnienia z other werewolves and it's just so unfair and here you are, the perfect opportunity for make-up sex or whatever the proper type of sex it is after this sort of thing, and I've the perfect opportunity to watch and and this is just gorsza część nadsfałszowanych nerek słonia ja ma kiedyś musiał zajmować się-"

"If you're going to yell at us for not letting you have your voyeuristic fun, can you please do it in a language I understand?"

Jake, leaning his head back against the pillow and groaning, "You've creepy friends, Leah."

I, poking around in the bedside table drawers for clothes, took a moment to glare at her. "Friends? No. Stalkers? Yes."

"Oh, you know you love me," Ekaternia Dobryninva, the worlds most annoying vampire, said, going to the closet and tossing a pair of jeans and a shirt at me. "I even braved Alice's closet to find something for you. She'll probably kill me when she finds out." She, lucky, headed towards the door after that and, door half closed, told me in a way that made me somewhat worried, "As soon as you're up, I've samples of a couple of china patterns I want you to look at." The door clicked shut behind her.

"Why," I asked Jake, reluctantly dressing in a horrible pink shirt that said I grow people, what's your superpower? that I'd rather have burned then wear, but what choice did I have? "does she think we need to worry about china patterns when we don't have any shelves at the rock to put them on?"

"More to the point, why does she think that any plate in any future house we have might last longer than a week?"

"Seth's only my brother. It's not my fault if he thought dinner plates make great Frisbees again."

"I was thinking more along the lines of anything you cooked sticking to it so badly..."

Whatever he said, I didn't pay much attention to it. I was just revelling in being around him again, his heady, pine-and-earth scent; the way he loved me more than I deserved; the comfortable, familiar feeling in me that rose when he smiled at me... It was bright and steadying and certain and teasing and everything about him was muscles and that perfect smell and his shaggy hair and his beautiful, deep, gorgeous eyes I could fall into with the smallest of glances from him, and he was the person who loved me so much to think of being apart again tore at my heard, and the boy who adored me (I remember him from when we were younger, a constant presence in my life. As Seth's best friend and Rachel and Rebecca's little brother, how could he not be? I remember him after Billy got in his wheelchair, and he'd walk with us from school to Old Quil's until Mom finished whatever it was she was at that day and picked us up, dropping Jake and his sisters at home. I remember he'd been at the house the day Sam broke up with me for my cousin, and rather then talk Seth out of it when my brother professed a desire to kill my ex, he said they should go over to his house and get Billy's shotgun, 'cause it had larger rounds or something like. I was listening from in my room, not crying, but feeling the could sense of shock and inability to understand how Emily could do something like this wash over me. He was always there) as if I were something magnificent; and the man who could make my heart leap and dance with a single touch, or glance, or word. He might still imprint on somebody else if we lived or we might all die whenever the Volturi got their asses around to showing up, but I loved him, and I could take that risk to be with him. I felt girly and ridiculous even thinking it, but I did because of him.

"I love you," I said, drawing closer to the bed. The jeans Kate had thrown at me were still in my hands, and only slowly did I at last put them on, acknowledging that a council of war (or weather watching) would probably go better if the Alphas were there.

Sliding out of bed, he stood easily a head taller than me and was looking strangely at me.

"What?" I asked self-consciously. I looked down. "It's the bump, isn't it? I look bloated rather than pregnant, don't I?" I tried to turn to look at myself, which didn't help matters any, and I guessed I was still more than a bit tired and hormonal and whatever else from earlier today. Or yesterday... "I look like a stick figure with half-a-balloon under my shirt, don't I? And what day is it? How long have I been asleep? Last think I remember it was six in the morning on Saturday and we were leaving Seoul, and then it was one in the morning and we were leaving Sea-Tac, and do you think it's the shirt? Why oh why do vampires like to buy novelty maternity clothes so much?" Or, the bigger question, why do people like to make such annoying maternity clothes for the vampires to buy?

Shaking his head at me, Jake lifted a hand and brushed a tendril of hair out of my eyes and behind my ear. "It's almost dusk. And you look beautiful."

"You didn't even look," I glared at him, which was to no effect as, of course, he wasn't looking. Well, not at my eyes at least. Nor at my chest, which I suppose would have been a decent second. "Why exactly are you staring at my ear?" It was, to say the least, rather annoying. Here I was, asking him an honest question about whether or not you could tell I was pregnant without the writing on the shirt, and he was staring at my ear. Boys. I loved Jake, but God he could be weird sometimes.

In a way that did not invite debate, "You've sexy ears."

"How," I laughed, thinking it a joke, "can an ear be sexy?"

"I dunno. Yours are though." He was still serious though. It was more than a little weird.

"Everything about me is sexy," I said, tugging him out of the bed and towards the door. "Just don't start a shrine to my toenail clippings or something. But come on," I said, flinging open the door, "you know the vampires are hopeless downstairs without us." I was feeling, rather then groggy from all the time changes, strangely energetic. "No idea how to plan anything other than birthday parties." I was home. I'd a battle to fight and a determination that we were going to live – and, even if we didn't, that it was for the best – and a will for the future that had somehow materialized during my sleep, screaming at me that, if we made plans and chose names and even china patterns, these things would be palladia against the terrors the future could hold. The power of positive thinking, or some such.

I do not think I've ever been a good person. I can be cruel and bitter and violent when the mood strikes me, and perhaps the only thing I deserve is death, but I have travelled halfway around the world, thinking and worrying and trying for the life of me to figure out what I wanted. And I could come up with only one thing:

Jacob.

I should've known it already. I should've moment from the moment I realized how much I truly liked him that I'd ever be able to live without him – at least, not in a way worth living. We just had to survive, and I'd do anything never to leave Jake again. End of story. No, make that never leave Jake or the pack again. That's the end of story.

In the living room, nearly every vampire in the house (and two more, standing stiffly by the unlit fireplace, dressed in black clothes that made me think they'd walked straight out of Hamlet, looking very odd and very out of place in such a modern and white room, and, imperceptibly, so old dim memories of the creation of the universe lingered in their dusty old minds) was gathered around the TV. It was opposite the wall of the marble fireplace and a large, sixty-five inch flat screen number, below which stood a low but solid cabinet from why any number of gaming systems, DVDs, or similar could be pulled out. On this bench-like cabinet, most the younger-looking vampires sat – Maggie, Benjamin (who, with his oddly pallid olive-skin and his dark, night black hair, showed clearly why Kate had once gone after him), and Senna – with Zafrina standing close to her mate, but angled enough that she could watch the weather channel without craning her neck. Even standing there in jaguar skins and watching HD on a TV most human males would kill for, she seemed more in place here than Rozencratz and Guidenstern (as I'd decided to call them) over there.

Peter and Charlotte were sharing a couch with Emmett and Rose, their eyes all intently following the large storm system making its way over us. The Egyptians (minus Benjamin) were standing near the window, looking at the snow falling, but occasionally quickly glancing back to the TV or to check on their youngest member, as if he might run away if not properly looked after. Siobhan and Liam had resumed their positions on the stairs, now that Jake and I had come down, and were whispering intently among themselves at such a low pitch that even my ears couldn't make out their words. Mary, who I must kill one of these days for giving me the "spirit name" Kiwidinok, which Kate had, naturally, shorted to Kiwi, was beading on the piano bench again; the other nomad, Randal, was standing at the other end of the instrument, rolling his 'coon hat in his hands as he watched the weather, eyes darting from TV to windows to door in a dizzying display of internal balance.

But they were all standing fifteen feet or more from Rozencratz and Guidenstern. Well, except for Kate, who was sitting cross-legged against the mantle and clicking away on a laptop while Garrett, who seemed to find Kate as curious as she found us, was working through a book of sudoku puzzles at her side.

"Where's the rest of them?" I whispered, clambering to take a seat at Kate's other side.

"In the kitchen," she said as Jake took a seat next to me. "Except for Edward. He's out with your lot, trying to hear the Volturi before they get here. Tanya's in a bit of a tizzy with Carlisle though about the Rumunie," Kate said, inclining her head to the Shakespearean extras, "being here. But how do you like the Fine Bone English Lace? White, but with an embroidered-looking embossing – and Wedgwood. You can't go wrong with them; they're almost as old as Gilead here."

I looked to Garrett – who for some unknown reason Kate was calling Gilead now, apparently, then to the dark-dressed men. "I see... What's the deal with Tall, Dark, and Brooding over there?"

"Remember the Romanians I was telling you about?" I nodded. "They're it. The taller one's Vladimir, the other's Stephan. Like I said, creepy lot. Finish each other's sentences and're at least twice again as old as I am. But the English Lace is too plain, isn't it? You need something more... rakish."

"Is it even possible for china to be rakish?"

"Don't argue with her about it. She's already in a snit over not being able to pick out your dress."

Ah. Alice. Thank God for some things. "I am not in a snit. I have simply not been in a wedding since Louis XV married Maria Leszczyńsha in September of 1725 – before you were even born. So forgive me if I'm getting overexcited. So, how do you feel about the Seville? Or are you more of a," she clicked, "Pearl Strand werewolf?"

I opened my mouth to ask Jake, who was eyeing the Romanians wearily, if it wasn't such a bad idea to just give up on giving our parents the proper wedding they undoubtedly wanted and just submit ourselves to their torture for the rest of our furry lives, when Carmen strode through the door from the kitchen and, somewhat soberly, said, "Edward 'as 'eard The Volturi. They 'ave brought ten guards, twice that in witnesses, and," she made a reflexive swallowing motion, "the wives."

There were several sounds of faint shock and confusion – I'd learned from Kate that the wives had rarely, if ever, left Volterra since Marcus's wife was killed by the Romanians...

I looked at the two aged vampires near us as the rest, like schoolchildren, began to file out of the house through the kitchen. Couples gave each other quick kisses or small touches as they walked, dead eyed, outside. They lingered, the Romanians, talking quietly but clearly.

"It will be great pleasure to have our revenge at last."

"Not our revenge. Dumitru and Lizuca's revenge."

"They should not have blamed us for Didyme Sempronia Flora's death."

"We would have burned her body and placed her head on a pike in Castelul Rosu for a week and let the sclavi listen to her screams before destroying it."

"Or would have sent the pike to Aro Sempronius and Marcus Lartius and enjoyed hearing their pain resonate into the countryside."

"But leave the ashes in daylight with her soiled clothing?"

"That is not us."

"Shall I kill Athenodora Ulpia Flava?"

"It shall be my pleasure to rend Sulpcia Mucia Atella limb from limb, Stefan."

"After you, Hrabia Stefan."

"No you, Hrabia Vladimir, ultimul Rege al Yamna."

"Together then, fratele si prieten meu," and, with that, they walked out of the room.

"Weird," I said to Kate, who, along with Jake, Garrett, and myself, was the last one in the room.

"They are the sole survivors of a lost culture, Kiwi. Creepstastic as they may be, they're good fighters. Or so the legends go. They were the first to rule the vampiric world. They were the ones who instigated the rules on hiding and not being seen. And, if anyone can destroy the Volturi – the Regilli, they call them – they can." Then she left, her Gilead at her side.

I looked at Jake. Now or never, I suppose. "Let's go show these pups the real way you fight a war." I took delight in phasing still in my clothes, ripping the stupid maternity shirt to pieces.

The voices were loud, a hum of almost palpable worry spreading from one of us to all the rest and back again until it was an undercurrent that could barely be ignored. ...demented Little Red Riding Hood in black is Jane – the pain one – and the short boy next to her is Alex- no, Alec. He can paralyse the senses, Seth was saying, running back towards the open field the Cullens used as a baseball pitch with Edward and Matty, from where they'd been rounding the south-eastern edge of the border. He was busy relaying all the information Edward was telling him about the guards the Volturi had brought, but he paused a moment when he felt me join them, long enough to say, If you ever leave again like that I'm going to tell Mom. So don't, before continuing, We need to get to them first if we're do do any damage. And...

As Seth went on, the other members of the pack joined in running through the snow towards the clearing from their various positions on the border, shouting out welcomes and I missed you, Aunt Leah's. Jake was in Alpha-mode, working us around the leeches until we were fairly well spaced. The scared ones, the ones too afraid to fight –Amun and Kebi on the far right; Alistair, who'd been brought back with Carlisle and Esme from England, was on the left, eyes already seeking escape routes – on the edge of the group, Embry and Quil nearby to take up their broken flanks if necessary. The veggies were in the centre of the line, the others arrayed around them, with Nessie standing just behind, the pups making up her guard.

Like guard dogs at the feet of our masters, Jake and I stood before the line – me, close to Kate; Jacob near Emmett's side. Normal dogs, though, would've been lost in the snow, nor would they have melted it where they stood. Now that the moment came to it, I felt both oddly calm and ready to explode at any instant.

"Żeby umierać będzie bardzo wielką przygodą, Katya," Tanya whispered, taking Kate's hand in the corner of my eye as the mass of what seemed like hundreds but could not have been much more than thirty leeches drew closer, a line of ten black-clocked shapes looming in front (the two shortest, the terrible twins Alec and Jane, in middle) with a group of three in the centre. They were tall, old looking men – older, physically, then most the leeches I'd seen, and that included the rag-tag looking group of twenty or so vampires loitering behind them.

They've brought witnesses of their own – the Eurasian and African nomads, I'd guess.

We out number them, then, if their witnesses won't fight.

They look scared, Judy offered, pushing Nessie back from the line still further. Not many will fight, if it comes to it.

Firmly, It will, said Jake. They are looking for any excuse to kill the Cullens.

But they're the most decent vampires out there!

That's why they want to kill them, knuckle-brain. The Cullens are eight – well, eight-and-a-half – now. The Volturi are but five. The rest are guards, not proper members.

The wives don't fight – Kate told me that. The guards are nasty, though.

What's the plan?

Kate, squeezing her sister's hand, whispered back to Tanya, "Death? An adventure? I'm sure it is, but I'm still too busy living to take it."

Pups, stay on Nessie. It looks the least like we're going to loose, take her and run. Rose said she slashed the tires on all of them but the Guardian and rigged the others to blow if someone tries to turn them on anyway. There's cash in the glove compartment. Drive south and don't stop 'til you get to the desert-

Zack rolled his eyes. Get the hell out of Dodge.

Damn right, I agreed. Vehemently. Pups do not die. That is the rule. We'll need to knock out the guard first, I've we've any chance. Go for the middle ones first – Jane and Alec – and the one that looks physically attached to Aro. She's a shield, Kate told me. Don't worry about the others unless you have to until we get them.

When the fight starts, Quil, Embry, you're with me. We'll go for Jane. Distract her as best we can to keep her from using the pain-thing she does, take her down if we can.

Aye, aye, Alpha sir.

Whatever you think is best, Jake.

I turned my head slightly towards Jacob, Good. Seth and I can go after Little Boy Blue. He was so handsome, so strong looking, that I wondered how we could fail. If we were going up against other wolves, we never would... but it was kinda like that first part of 2001: A Space Odyssey with all the human-monkeys fighting each other. We had the bone clubs, yes, and would be good against human-monkeys without them, but what good was a bone club going against aliens with phaser pistols and Holtzman shields? But I wasn't afraid. Concerned, yes, but afraid? Never.

If anyone has too much anger to be able to block, it's you sis.

I'll resent that later, when we're not dead.

Cool, Seth said, still beaming with odd happiness that I was back.

Bet we can kill our vamp first. Whichever team looses has to clean the lean-to.

You've got yourself a deal, Ateara.

"How long have we been waiting for vengeance, Stefan? Twenty-two hundred years?"

"Two thousand two hundred seventy-nine years its been since they killed Lizuca. Dumitru they destroyed three years before that."

We must trust Ed-weird to tell the others of our plans. Pups, keep an eye on everything. If you see they've reinforcements hidden somewhere. And-

Don't get killed! they said in unison.

Yes, don't, I said. Worry coursed through me. They were my children, in a way. My cousins at the very least. I'd been instructed to take care of them, and here I was, bringing them onto the battlefield. They'd not have stayed away had I asked, so I supposed it was better know where they worry then worry about where they weren't.

Yes, Aunt Leah, Judy giggled.

And then Carlisle moved forward from the line and spoke. Unthinking in our movements, Jake and I strode forward too, waiting a pace behind him, but showing our teeth and ready to fight. Wanting to fight. The twins were phased inside me (I could tell from the doubled kicking) and ready to help me, even if their help was likely to only give me an interior haemorrhage. "Aro, my old friend. It's been centuries."

Slowly, stepping through the banked snow himself, he came forward enough to be just level with Plain Jane and her twin. The other, Renata, followed him as if her hands were glued to the back of his robe. What little skin showed in the falling snow at dusk looked even more pale and sickly than most leeches, and a cloudy film dulled his otherwise sickly crimson eyes. "Fair words, my friend," he said, his voice tissue-paper thin. It annoyed me to have to listen to it; a leader's voice should be strong and clear and powerful like, well, like Jake's. No so soft werewolf hearing had troubled discerning his words. They sounded just slightly too slow, too, like a person whose fluent in a language but still picks his words. Two thousand odd years ago, there was no English, and even Latin was in the cradle at their births. I think. "They seem out of place, considering the army you've assembled to kill me, and to kill my dear ones."

"Kill? Have you forgotten me so quickly, Aro? It's only been two centuries since I was last at Volterra and I still desire war as little as I did then, if not still less. But touch my hand and you shall see that was never my intent."

Cold, fish-filmed eyes narrowed, "Yet you have openly defied a law which has been standing for fifteen hundred years."

"I have not committed the crime you are hear to punish me for."

"Then step aside and let us punish those responsible. Truly, Carlisle, nothing would please me more than to preserve your life today."

"Nor have we broken any laws, Aro. But let me explain-"

A man with white-blonde hair darted forward, the other remaining tired and bored-looking where he was, hissing like a snake on a bender. "So many pointless rules you make yourself, Carlisle, and force yourself to live this unnatural, unnecessary life, and yet you break one of the oldest rules known to our kind. How do you defend that action, friend?" This last he spat out, and I half expected to see a forked tongue dark out from his thin, withered lips.

"The child you seek is not-"

"But she is still a child! It does not matter how well you think you have trained her; if she is of less than fourteen mortal years, she is not allowed."

"She was never-"

Edward, ever the idiot, came forward, a pace in front and to the right of Carlisle. "Take my hand then, Aro, and read my thoughts. Renesmee if not of Carlisle's making, but my own."

"I sus-"

"I fathered her and my wife birthed her while still human. Can you not here her heartbeat? Ask any of the witnesses we have assembled and they will testify that she has grown."

Idiot! I thought loudly, You do that and he'll see everything you've heard, in everyone's head. He'll know we're-

"Is that so, young one?"

If Edward was offended at being called such, he did not show it. "You know Amun and Siobhan; your guards have told you of Zafrina. You know Carlisle, and Eleazaar once served you. Why would they lie?"

The blonde – Caius, I guessed – spoke again. "It does not matter what the child is, but that she is a child. We banned Immortal Children for good reason, and even if it were possible for a half-human, half-vampire child to be conceived and birthed, how would it be any different? We know nothing of what she will become! We cannot know what she will grow to be."

"Only the known is safe," Aro whispered, so I had to strain to hear him. "Only the known is tolerable. The unknown is a vulnerability. I should have stopped this long ago... clearly your... unnatural ways have destroyed your judgement, Carlisle. Animal blood has destroyed your mind, turned it feral like the filthy creatures we have risen above. The man I once called friend would not have been tricked by so open a lie as your... children have tricked you."

"It is not a lie-"

"And consorting with Children of the Moon-"

"They are not-"

Fiercely, sharply, but in still no more than a whisper, "Do not interrupt me."

The entirety of our collected force bristled at this insult to our, well, our leader. Carlisle was a kind man, a good man, better than most humans even, and the crazy old leach here had not only called him a liar, but was treating him like a wayward five-year-old? The growls of the wolves deepened, and several of the vampires went into defensive crouches and readied their special powers, if they had any, behind me.

"That's what you said to her," Edward said softly, speaking in the silent space between the gentle falling of snow and the low, foreboding growls of the amassed fighters.

What is he talking about?

Aro's sister, Jake said quickly.

Why-?

You'll see. Everyone, get ready.

In tone that brokered to misunderstanding, "Ignoscas mihi?" Aro turned towards Edward. The wrong answer, whatever it might be, would earn him a quick death. Jane was waiting. The others were waiting. They wanted to kill us, even if Aro might have reservations about hurting his old friend Carlisle. They'd kill everyone in the world if given half the chance.

"You know what I speak of, Aro. They wanted to go away, travel the world for a while. But you couldn't have that. You had plans, Aro Sepronius Regillius. And Marcus and Didyme leaving-"

"Kill him," the leader snapped, giving a quick signal to a nondescript boy of about eighteen mortal years. I did not know him, but I guessed him to have a power like fire or extreme strength that might come in handy for destroying vampires.

He chuckled and moved to step forward as Jake and I tensed, ready to attack. On my signal, he kept on saying. On my signal. Not before.

And then the impossible happened: the dull-eyed, bored-looking one that had held back near the drab-looking women, suddenly came to life, saying, "Wait a moment, Afton," and moved to stand by his kindred. "What mean you, young Cullen?" he said to Edward, looking at him almost eagerly behind veiled eyes, "They killed Didyme."

Vladimir and Stefan snorted, the former saying, "If we could sneak into your stronghold and murder one of you, Marcus Lartius Regillus, why would we murder your wife?"

"You were just pompous upstarts back then anyway. Why would we have bothered with any of you?"

"We were kings of Yamna, Dumitru, Lizuca, Stefan and I."

"And now," said Stefan bitterly, "Yamna is gone, as are Dumitru and Lizuca, all at your hand."

"I can see it in Aro's mind, Marcus. He said he'd let you both go, but he needed your power if he was to take over-"

Aro, somewhat desperately, turned towards Caius and Marcus. "See how wildly they lie, my brothers, now that their initial lie is shredded?"

But Edward continued over him, and his voice louder than the old one's. "The night before you were to leave, he took her into the village near the river where you found her. He told her he had found a particularly ripe young girl for her to drink from – Didyme liked to drink children, breaking their necks with a smile still on their young faces – as a going away present. He brought forward the girl, and as his sister was drinking, he snuck up behind her and broke her neck, cauterizing the wound with a torch he carried. After that, it was quick work to burn her body. He left a blue sash that had been her favourite at the scene, and a partially melted dragonfly broach."

Before the mind-raper, putting his talents to good use for once, had finished, Marcus had already turned on Aro.

"Eam necavisti?" he said, the milky clouds starting to disappear from his eyes as he began to rage, first like a lit fuse, quietly, and then with all the force and sound of a bomb.

Wait for it, Jake said again.

Is that true? Aro killed his own sister? And here I thought pack life was a soap opera-

Wait for it.

"You believe the mad gold-eyes, brother? He must have gotten the details from her murderers, who stand there with them."

But Maggie was shaking her head and saying, "That is a lie. A lie," and looked more like a demented bobble-head with each lie the Volturi told.

"Sororiem tui – uxorem mei – necavisti!"

"Marcus, this is absurd. Why would Aro have murdered Didyme?"

But it was too late by then, Marcus, seeming beyond reason, let loose a deep and feral growl, leaping at Aro. The guard, being called upon by both sides and Caius seeming uncertain as to his allegiance, began to edge back towards the wives. Some of their witnesses – and Alistair – had run, but the others stayed as if rooted to the spot, starring in disbelief at the leaders of the vampire world trying to rip the other's throats out.

Jake gave the signal, and the pack rushed forward: he, Embry, and Quil taking Jane by surprise as she fretted over which call for aid to go to, while Seth and I did similar with her shocked brother. And it was all the word the others needed.

The revolution had begun.


	26. Zulu

"The fact of it is nothing to do with seeing it happen – it's not gasps and blood and falling about –  
that isn't what makes it death. It's just a man failing to reappear, that's all – now you see him,  
now you don't, that's the only thing that's real: here one minute and gone the next and  
never coming back – an exit, unobtrusive and unannounced, a disappearance  
gathering weight as it goes on until, finally, it is heavy with death."

Guildenstern in Tom Stoppard's Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead

* * *

What I could see went like this, a blur of action and half-thoughts that I could neither completely notice or wholly ignore:

Jake, Embry, and Quil went for Red Ridding Hood's mirror world twin, trying to pin her down so they could keep her from, a) using her power on anyone and, b) attacking back as they tried to pull her apart and burn the pieces.

Some of the witnesses disappeared, Amun grabbing Kebi and running without looking for his other covenmates at all, but the rest of ours stayed. None of the Volturi's were joining the fight, though, not for any of its sides.

Benjamin and Tia lingered around the pups and Nessie, the boy standing with his knuckles pressed to his forehead, his other hand stretched out as if reaching for something none of the rest of us could see. His mate crouched defensibly in one of the least-uncool vampire crouches I've had the privilege of seeing. Wind started to whip her loose, dark hair about and force the snow sideways, though there hadn't been the slightest breeze a moment before.

Carlisle and Esme seemed to hang back as well, not having wanted this to come to a fight. But, I noticed, they were standing where the leeches would have to run if they wanted to get to Forks, making sure that none of the human-drinkers could get past them into town. Zafrina, calling on her power of illusions, had done something similar in the direction of La Push, making it seem as if more wolves waited in the shadows there. Or maybe there were, and Sam's pack had come to join us. I doubted it. I doubted they even knew what deep monkey-licking, toe-scratching shit we were in.

And, of course, there was Marcus and Aro, fighting in a manner that was part-Matrix, part-The-Transporter, and part-the-dad-from-Taken. Not that any part of it was particularly cool or well-choreographed or, God forbid, actually good-looking, but it was just... They had the look of those who were both masters of destruction, Sith Lords without the red lightsaber, who knew what they were doing but hadn't had to do it themselves in a long time. They were talking to each other, shouting, in a language I only knew couldn't be Latin 'cause it didn't sound anything like that Latin from movies, and Caius was trying to intercede.

And then there was me and Seth. And there was Alec, who were were going after. Alec, who was too busy watching with shocked expression his masters fighting like this and did not notice us coming at him until Seth had already lunged at him, snarling as he took hold of one of the leech's ankles and tried to pull and I, taking an arm, pulled the opposite direction.

He quickly realized what we were doing, though, and took his free hand to try and pry me off of him without loosing his arm. This was naturally, difficult, as we bit down hard.

Er, said Seth, now what?

My poor, idiot brother, who had no idea how to fight. You know that thing dogs do with bones, where they shake their heads?

Yeah.

I winced as Alec grabbed the hairs on the back of my neck and pulled, I advise doing that. Ow! Ow! Ow fuckity ow! I swore as he tore the hairs out but not me. What is the mother-fucking toadstool-popping goat-biting son of a bitch and a broomstick doing? Trying to do? Annoy me to death?

Possibly. Seth offered. Why won't this guy fall to pieces already?

'Cause we don't have the proper mood music, I told him, my feel scrambling for purchase in the snow as I tried to pull his hand lower, figuring that if we could bring him down and ran in opposite directions, we might at least tear him in two. God, we're built to fight vampires. Why can't this be fucking easy?

Patience builds character, someone, I think, Matty said.

Ah-ha! shouted Embry. I got a foot! First blood, Call! Yeow! he screamed, a fire hot brand of pain running through his body and along the line of mental connection between us. He fell to the ground, limbs twitching like mad, while Jake and Quil, still with a grip on the titchy witch, redoubled their effort. The foot he'd managed to tear off, still clad in black Mary Jane's and a bit of torn grey stockings, rocked a bit, and tried to wiggle its way back to the many body.

Fire! We need fire! that was Jake. He was throwing Jane's other foot towards the centre of the clearing, back towards Benjamin, Tia, and the pups, and away from the vampires.

At the same time, from where the wives had been hiding, the shout of, "Incendiu," came from one of the  
Romanians. Bits of limbs, torn from the body at the joints and dotted with hints of blood, flew over our heads, towards where Jake had thrown the foot. "Avem nevoie foc. Acum!" he shouted again as Caius, seeming to realize that, while he tried to break his brothers up, his wife was being killed. The Volturi and the Romanian met in a rage that, from the corner of my eye as I – finally – twisted a hand off, looked like a whirl of hands and legs and feet that could only be described as Matrix and something more ancient at the same time.

Tanya shouted next – and I knew it was Tanya by the way her voice lilted at the end, possibly as a result of seeing Irina held fast by a tall, burly, leech with short black cropped hair; a version of Emmett that had never known laughter or, if he had, only the dark kind - "Ogień! Benjamin, we need fire!"

The wind was whipping around the edge of the battlefield now, and I could barely see anything at all in the whirling haze of snow except for the strange, dark dressed vampire Seth and I were trying to take down, made harder by the fact that it seemed he could see his sister being torn apart and being unable to focus her pain power on any one person for more than a moment before it sputtered out of its own free will. Seeing this, Alec, though missing a hand and seeing cognisant enough of his surroundings not to let me get another purchase on his stone-like skin, made for her, and a black mist began to pour from his one hand and the stump of his other.

Seth! I shouted without thinking, not knowing what the mist was but guessing it was nothing I would like to see used against my brother. When I leapt again, it wasn't to try to get my teeth in the Alec's neck or to aim for his other hand, but to knock Seth out of the way, just as the mist expanded to the size of a malformed oval about as tall as the leech and twice again as wide. I felt myself caught in the mist like a fly in amber, lodged somewhat awkwardly in it some feet above the ground, unable to move or breathe or see...

And then it hit me: an overwhelming sense of nothingness that could not be dreamt of in a nightmare, let alone described in words and deeds of me or werewolves.

I did not see the tempestuous wind rip cleanly large branches from the nearby trees and throw them into the centre of the clearing, where a handful of thrown limbs from all sides of the fighting lingered, or the bright, blue-tinged lightening bolt that descended impossibly straightly from the heavens amid the whirling snow and light the logs on fire. I did not see the four-hundred-year-old vampire boy who did this stumble afterwards, almost falling atop the pups he stood in front of, nor hear him whisper to Matty faintly, "I cannot control all the elements at once. Keep getting wood for the fire. It must be hot," while trying with all his might to keep up the mighty maelstrom of snow that kept the combatants from escaping, or new ones joining from the group of watchers the Volturi had brought.

I did not see Edward, Emmett, and Rosalie tag-teaming against a tall blonde with the hint of olive to her pale skin that Benjamin and the other Egyptians showed. Chelsea I would later learn she was called, and how she fought like an animal once she realized she could not break the bonds of love and brotherhood between the three. I did not see her make the short, scaring cut across Emmett's chest with the diamond-edged switchblades she had secreted in the sleeves of her white tunic – though, as might be expected, neither blade went in all too deeply or cut for any length before getting stuck in his stone skin and both blades, warpped and chipped, fell to the ground. I did not see her make some fatal flaw of positioning that allowed Rose to come from behind and twist and run like a quarterback to the fire with the blonde Volturi's head.

I did not see the after-effects of Chelsea's beheading, not directly. I did not see Felix, the burly fellow holding Irina back, suddenly loose her and stagger as if hit with the broad side of a tree. I did not see how, after a moment where he could not make sense of what was going on around him, he went as if to join a shorter, slighter member of the guard (Demetri, I believe) who was giving Siobhan, Maggie, and Mary a run of their money, and was able to pin Demetri's arms behind him so that the she-leeches could pull hunks of flesh from the guard and throw them into the fire. Nor did I see Hedi, a drop dead blonde of the Nordic persuasion, near fall over from the shock of it, nor, as she struggle back to her feet, grab her arm back from Zafrina and Senna, and reattach it on the run before joining Rose in tearing what remained of Chelsea limb from limb, muttering, "Ni ordvalet, ni var precis som min syster. Hur skulle du göra detta för mig?" as she did so.

I did not see anything. Not Corin, with her power of persuasion, walk Randal and his 'coon hat right into the fire. Not Stefan and Vladimir fighting Caius, or Aro and Marcus going at it. All I knew was... nothing. There was nothing else but the blackness and the coldness and the emptiness. I'd not felt like this since Sam dumped me for Emily – not upset or angry, but just dazed and confused and wanting to do something, but unable to figure out what it was that needed to be done, let alone how to do it. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, or a feeling at all. Like I was just here, a body taking up space with nothing more to recommend it.

I hated it.

I hated it then, I hated it now, and it seemed I'd have to spend the rest of my life hating this dark and empty void that had become my life once more. And this little vampire boy – this mother-fucking, bite-sized, peanut-pinching, blood-drinking son of a bitch – was trying to make me feel that way again? (I could feel the anger rise within me, or try to at least, at just the thought of the titchy bastard.) What right did he to make me feel that empty again? To send me back to that bitter piece of hell that had been my domain for so long that the devils and I had started Tuesday night poker games? Just when I'd finally found my niche as Alpha female? As Jake's wife and mother hen to a handful of werewolves and, God forbid, BFFs with a succubal vampire and precocious human-vampire hybrid? It wasn't right and wasn't fair and damn the world if it wasn't either, but I wanted it to be that way and I'd reshape it if that's what it took for my dreams to come true. A hammer was all I'd need...

I waited, hoping that something would happen. That, perhaps, the mist would move or I'd become numb to its effects. But nothing happened. I was a fool to expect anything that helpful could happen to me.

Well damn it all to hell! If this Alec fellow thought he could break me, he was in for another thing entirely. I was going to live through this, we all were, and the Volturi were going to be destroyed and I'd give birth to twins and we'd find some names for them and some house to raise them in and it'd be some sick '50s sitcom of a life and people would gag at how happy we'd be and all we'd have to worry about is what flavour of daiquiri to have as we sat on First Beach (anything but banana, yuck) and we'd not have to phase unless we wanted to and there'd be no more vampire threat to La Push and we'd be able to go back to the Rez without the stupid rules or worrying about the other pack 'cause there'd be only one and Jake would be the Alpha and I'd be the Alpha female and maybe we'd live longer than we should and maybe we'd seem to be layabouts whose only source of income would have to be some drug cartel 'cause nothing else could explain it, and maybe we'd have to put up with a new vampire court being set up on the Olympic peninsula, but we were going to live through it, damn vampires in general and damn the Volturi in particular and Alec the overgrown toe-wart in specific.

I struggled against the black mist, or, at least, tried to, but I could not move limbs I no longer seemed to have, which made me grow only angrier. I mean, mother of God in track pants, I'd flown halfway around the world and back in a day. I'd lied to and bullied ticket sellers and customs agents, probably ruined the engine on a perfectly good Audi with my terrible abuse of its gas pedal, and had my nerves wrung every which way in the last couple of days. I'd spent the last few months putting up with vampires and living at a rock and stupid werewolf periods and then this whole pregnancy thing that wasn't working quite according to The First Nine Months books and had to deal with Mom wanting to marry Charlie and had learned entirely too much about certain kings of medieval Europe and where they had unfortunate moles or other physical excesses due to inbreeding and I was NOT going to end it all trapped inside some girly mist because some titchy little vampire was angry his sister couldn't torture people properly!

To my surprise, though, I felt my paws actually twitch as I thought this, and then the ground as I collapsed heavily upon it, sound and sights and smells exploding all around me as, staggering to my feet, everything came back into being. It was loud and hurt like hell, and it took me a moment to get my bearings as everything was screaming and burning and hard, but I threw myself back at the annoying boy-pire as soon as I figured out which shapeless blur he was, not daring to pause for fear it mightn't be me to got to rip him to pieces.

Leah, how-?

What-?

When, where, why, who. I snapped, not caring how I escaped the black mist at all at the moment and getting a nice grip on Alec's neck and trying to pry it off with only my teeth. I am going to kill this mother-fucking undead son-of-a-shit-head, and then I'm going to get tractor-trailer and fill it with lead and run his nematode-sucking, ass-pantsing, lice-licking body over, (I managed to rip halfway through his creepy pale white neck), and then do it again, (I shook harder, vaguely annoyed by the half-decapitated head bouncing against my muzzle and his hands trying to get a grip on my snow-slick fur), and again, until I run out of gas. And then I'll burn the pieces until there's nothing but ash, (nearly there), and then, (a-ha! there went the annoying little bastard's overgrown pimple of a head, rolling away), I will jump on the ashes and continue to do so until I get blisters, and then, (I severed through the legs of the battling leeches, caught up with the screeching head, and butted the thing towards the ridiculously hot fire, not pausing for an instant to wonder why a naked Matty and carrying very large logs towards it), I'll find some sumo wrestlers, and they'll jump on them, and she shoots, (I gave a particularly forceful head butt, so that the – ha! - head went soaring into the flames), she scores! And the crowd goes wild!

That's wonderful, Lee, Seth said, trying to rip Alec's arm from his still moving torso, It really is, but do you mind? Quil, Jake, and Embry are still two limbs ahead of us...

We'd be farther if somebody hadn't almost let the itty-bitty bitch go to watch Leah get stuck in some black fog.

Well I'm sor-ry if I wanted to make sure my wife wasn't getting herself killed!

Seth and I each grabbed an arm and pulled, the joints popping out of their sockets a whole lot easier than the guy's head had. We took turns running them to the fire, which burned blue-white in the places limbs had landed, and made unpleasant screaming noises that I decided had turned me off horror and war movies forever. You put all the World War Two movies together and you'd probably have something that lasted longer than the entire war did anyway. And only maybe three were worth watching anyway.

I was trying my best not to, you know, but then I was thinking, 'You know, Leah, you've not done anything idiotic, unreasonable, or irresponsible in a couple of hours...'

Ha! Quil snorted, then groaned as an bolt of pain ran through him and our connection, This is just too creepy. All she is now is a bit of torso and hand, and she still keeps shocking us. I don't like it.

'I do not like green eggs and ham I do not like them Sam I am.'

I imprinted on a toddler, for fuck's sake! Quil yelled, taking what was left of Jane's arm towards the fire. I am not a toddler myself.

Yes, you're just a teenager that happens to like Dr. Seuss.

I dunno, Jake said, following Quil with the last bit of bloody Jane torso and stump of biceps to the fire. It was rather awkward, seeing him do it out of his eyes while I was trying to break her twin into fun-sized bits, made stranger still by the fact he seemed disinclined to actually bite what remained of the vampire (possibly because it was still randomly shocking whoever touched it, and a jolt of electricity to the mouth is never fun) and was holding it by her schoolgirl collar instead. I always thought The Lorax was a hell of a book myself.

The sheer absurdity of it all – discussing children's books while dismembering child-vampires – struck me then, and I let out a bark of laughter from my position at one end of Alec's torso, dragging it into the fire. It made Jake actually look back for a moment to see if I'd gone insane or something. The torso wiggled in his grip, and a small bolt of force-lightening-like light escaped the bleeding end of Jane's wounded arm and hit Matty, however weakly, square in the chest as he raised his arms to toss another tree-sized log into the fire. The log slipped out of his hands and fell heavily, bruising at least one rib, and doing far more harm than the jolt she sent probably had. Jake shook the torso wildly, than threw it into the fire.

Ha! We we win! Embry said, than ran to Matty to make sure he's was alright. But the boy was already getting up, a nasty purple spreading across his chest, but otherwise fine.

I spat out the last bit of of Alec into the fire, gagged at the taste, and looked around. So, Almighty Alpha, who do we fight next? The Cullen children had, with Heidi's help, taken care of Chelsea and moved on to Corin; the others had taken out the girl that had been physically attached to Aro – Renata – quite easily, and Santiago, and were working with Felix on the last fighting member of the guard, a tall but slight man with longish brown hair waving a pair of firebrands at the vampires, in epic rage, mobbed him. And don't think you're going to get out of cleaning the lean-to so easily, Call. I know where you sleep...

Blonde Irina with the golden eyes was standing off to one side, clearly wanting to join her coven but unable to bring herself to do so after seeing the battle her words had wrought.

And then there were Stefan and Vladimir, who looked like they were toying with Caius as they forced him closer and closer to the flames.

The real battle to watch, though, was that of Marcus and Aro. One would kick out, landing a solid blow that the other would accept where a human would have had the wind (and the liver) knocked out them while managing to catch his attacker's arm and flip him over, backwards, so that he pivoted around his extended foot, and would have landed flat on his back if leech reflexes hadn't allowed him to twist around in the air and use his other arm to push the other backwards, pulling his arm safely back to his side.

Strangely, curiously, we watched the battle that was more of a dance, long robes with hanging sleeves obscuring sharp movement into something quite other, circling around and gathering stray bits of leech limbs and sticks to throw into the fire. Embry phased out and helped Matty bring larger pieces, until the fire was so hot the snow had melted for a good twenty feet around it, turning the ground into some sort of mud-ridden sludge.

Have we won? Seth asked.

Nearly... we need to teach you how to fight better, buddy.

I lacked the proper background music for a cool fight scene.

Does anyone else have "Dragula" stuck in their heads?

We all rolled our eyes. Well now we do, I snapped, while Seth started humming da da da dunna da da da dunna da da da dunna da dun-nah!

I sighed. You know that time you ate that lump of charcoal when you were like three? Well, Seth, I'm pretty certain now that it was lead, 'cause you're as mad as a hatter.

The Mad Hatter, Quil said matter-of-factly, had mercury poisoning.

What, Claire make you watch Alice in Wonderland yesterday?

Can we save this argument for a time when we're not watching to Volturi try to kill each other?

Hey, does something seem off to you?

Other than the smell of burning leech-flesh? I mean, what do they do? Bathe in Eau du Barf or something?

No, I mean, doesn't the one that killed his sister like read minds or something?

Yeah, but touch, Seth added, that's what I think Edward said. Why?

'Cause doesn't he look like he's having a seizure or something?

We all looked over, sweating like, well, dogs by the fire. Aro did look a little odd, but he probably didn't like the glint in Marcus's eyes any more than I would have if he was looking that way at me. There was a reason why you didn't kill somebody's wife and lie about it for three thousand years...

I dunno, he looks like he's had a bit too much botox to me.

No, wait, I think... is he wincing every time Marcus touches him?

Why would he be doing that?

Ten guesses what memories Marcus is remembering... and anger is a powerful tool.

Is that how you escaped from the midst? 'Cause Edward said-

I don't give a rhinoceros's flying fuck what the cradle-robbing, dick-sucking, rabbit-killer said – unless its how many STDs he contracted giving Sam blow jobs over the summer.

That's wrong on so many levels, Lee.

Why? My money's on herpes and syphilis, at the very- oh, ol' boy Aro did not seem to take that well.

The white-hat leeches seem to have the last one under control. Should we try to help, er...?

The Romanians? No, I think they've got Caius under control. We could like edge Aro and Marcus towards the fire or something... Besides, the Romanians were freaky. Sure, draining people's blood into barrels and drinking it in sippy cups may keep you from staining your five-hundred-year-old Shakespeare original suit, but it does nothing for ones Karma points and is probably second on the grand grossness scale to the classic Dracula-drink-from-the-throat manoeuvre. And, of course, the idea of Mom and Charlie going full-frontal in my living room. Or anywhere else, for that matter.

Oh, great, I said with an eye roll, nevertheless heading circling the fire after Jake, now we get to be sheepdogs too?

We started from a distance, Jake, Seth, Quil, and I kinda hedging the duelling vampires towards the fire, moving in slowly and closely as they fought so they'd have less and less space to manoeuvre unless they wanted to try and get past us. Our hope was that they'd rather not and not realize they were dancing close to the fire until it was far too late, 'cause all of us were quite content to let the leeches fight each other, 'cause if one managed to kill the other, that'd just leave us with the remainder... and I was a little achy from my time in the black mist. I guess nerves weren't meant to be suddenly disconnected from then reconnected to the brain...

Call it what you like, Lee, I'm just happy that you're managed not to get killed.

Not yet, anyway, I amended. 'Sides, it takes more than a vampire with an attitude problem to kill Leah Clearwater, I hope you know.

Leah Black.

Po-ta-to, Pa-tad-o, I yawned. Now that we weren't actively fighting, I was beginning to notice a lot of places that stung where dirt and snow had gotten into now-healing cuts and scratches, and all this healing made me tired. And hungry. I wouldn't say no to a nice potato soup when this is all over.. or peach cobbler... or papaya. I could really go for some papaya right now. I've never had a real papaya, just a papaya-flavoured smoothie at the mall once, when I still went to malls, but a papaya sounds really good...

God, can't pregnancy hormones give it a rest during epic Vampire-Lycan battles?

I-

God, can you save the mushy stuff for when I'm not around?

Quil snorted, If you call that mushy, you're never going to get anywhere with Ruth Huntly.

To do that, he'd first have to ask her out. You know, Seth, if you want any tips-

EWWWWW! Gross! I do not want to hear about anything of the kind from my sister's husband.

I was actually going to suggest going to Emmett. He probably knows about these things.

Oh... Well, you could've said something! Now I'm going to have nightmares for weeks.

Oh, yes, I rolled my eyes in his direction as the space between us and the fire narrowed to about twenty yards, 'cause dismembering vampires isn't scary at all, while the mere thought of your sister-

Grrrrah! Logically, I know what you two do, and I'm copacetic with that, but I do not want to hear about it, think about it, or even have any indication that you are anything other than...

Maid Marian?

You've got to stop watching Disney movies. Switch to Nickelodeon or something every once and a while.

This coming from the guy who just used the word 'copacetic' in a sentence?

Too much time spent around leeches, I said, shaking my head. And then I paused to wonder how the name Marian Black sounded. And then I shook my head even harder and longed for papaya cravings again.

Alas, poor Seth! I knew him well.

I am surrounded by idiots and imbeciles... What do you suppose the jerk-pires are yelling at each other?

"Oh, Aro," Jake said, making his mind-voice high and shrill, effectively talking over Marcus as he yelled something in that unknown language and did something with his arms that almost knocked Aro over, "How can you do this to me? You told me dingos ate my wife!"

Seth, Quil, and I burst into wolfy laughter, which neither Leech Lord noticed as they fought each other, not seeming to realize they were down to only fifty feet between us and the fire. Aro and Marcus make for such boring evil names. I mean, Dark Lord Phil is about the only worse name out there. Haven't these guys ever seen a Star Wars movie or read a book in the last thousand years? They really need to work on their evil branding... if they somehow manage to kill us all before we kill them.

Aro yelled something back, and Quil couldn't help but say (affecting a terrible Italian accent as he did so), "Oh, but Marcus, I love you. I only want us to be together always, like de peanut butter and jelly, no?"

"How many times do I have to tell you, Aro? I do not love you. I can never love again. I am still mourning for my long dead wife... haven't you noticed all the black clothes and the heavy make-up and the goth music?"

"I dought you were just going drough a phase, and you would come to realize in de end dat you were de gay too."

"I am not," Jake said, holding back laughter as he continued to pretend to translate for Marcus, "'the gay.'"

"Neider am I... but we still can-"

"No."

"Predy predy please?"

"Never."

"But-"

"Not if we were the last two people on earth and the choice was between you or coating myself in honey and locking myself in a room with a thousand killer bees."

"Fine den," 'Aro' huffed. "See if I care. I shall simply kill you and moon over our lost love for the next hundred years."

There's something seriously wrong with us, Jake said, breaking character at last.

You're just now figuring that out? I shook my head. Our poor children are going to be brain damaged, I just know it. Combined IQs of twelve, I swear.

Don't say things like that, Lee.

It's your fault, you know, Quil added; you're the one who let him knock you up.

Little brother, people! Little brother. Can't we just corral the vampires like normal wolves, without talking about anyone's sex life?

Or lack thereof?

I agree with Seth here, as much as it pains me to admit. I do not want to hear anything about his, oh, gag me, sex life... okay, I need a toothbrush now... and extra-strength mouth wash...

How about plans for tomorrow?

Tomorrow? I'm planning on sleeping in for the next week. And then a chocolate binge, and some stolen time with Jake, and then maybe another nap. Maybe not in that order.

Isn't Matty's birthday next week?

What's he turning? Seven?

Fourteen, I think.

God, the pups are babies, aren't they?

We'll need a cake.

We'll need to get him a fake license, that's what we need to do. Then we can go bar-crawling in Seattle or something.

There will be no bar-crawling when I cannot drink.

Who said you were invited, Leah?

Who said I wanted to come? But as the only legal person here... I draw the line at fourteen-year-olds going bar-crawling.

Fine then. Embry's is at the end of the month and Seth's in March. We can go drinking then.

Oh, go watch Arthur or something, Ateara.

I-

"You fool," Aro shouted, this time in English, so we knew what he was actually saying. Unbeknownst to us as we were, er, talking amongst ourselves, Edward, Emmett, and Rosalie; Tanya, Kate, Carmen, and Eleazaar; Siobhan, Liam, and Maggie; Zafrina and Senna; Vladimir and Stefan, and Mary had formed another ring behind us – father back, well away from the fire – that effectively blocked the escape for these two dictators of the vampire world. "It's all lies and trickery – just and excuse to get us to fight amongst each other. Si coniungmus, reportamus. Si dividamus, cadeamus sine dubio."

They had ceased fighting, if only for the moment, circling each other inside the rings we'd formed around them. "I am tired of your lies, thuva. Celu Cathua, I will see you dead for this."

"Dead? My dear friend, you have to have been alive long enough to know that all the best gods are dead."

"Divinity? Is that what this is to you? - No, why am I surprised? I've always known you were power-hungry and power-mad; this trip to destroy the gold-eyes is just the latest in your line of schemings: the Yamna destroyed Didyme Flora, we must destroy them; the Hushiur Tivr near destroyed Caius, we must destroy them – tell me, did you send the wolf-men after him, or did you go after him yourself and have Ulisse alter his memories before we rid ourselves of him for his ridiculous obsession with that newborn..."

"Lucia? Or was it Linda?"

For a moment Marcus seemed to consider, than regained his anger twofold. "What does it matter now what her name was? Both are dust so many times over that empires have risen and fallen with their ashes in their bones. You call yourself a god, and maybe you are, but gods too have hells, my fratello prediletto," he spat, stopping his circling so that his back was to us, his face towards Aro and the fire.

"I did what had to be done, mio stupido cognato, to make us strong. You think you would have survived this long if I had not found you? You think you would've been anything without me? You would have wasted your gift flitting from town to town, a vampyrus, a phasma lurking in the shadows, praying to gods you were greater than that the alimenta that you so feared would not destroy you. I taught you how to make best use of your gift! I brought you into my coven, let you lie with my inutilis soror, and how did you repay me? By wanting to sneak off into the night at the hour of my greatest need?"

"Didyme was far from worthless. At least she could make people happy – your name needs but be mentioned and fear and discord are sewn into every heart!"

"Fear is power, and without power-"

"I have heard your speeches, Aro. I have spent a thousand lifetimes listening to your speeches. 'The world itself is the will to power – and nothing else!'" he spat venom at the other's feet, coming slowly forward as Aro stepped slowly back. There was still easily ten, fifteen feet between him and the fire... but he was still moving backwards, and we'd all the time in the world. "You said you wanted revenge on the Yamna, to avenge Didyme and to civilize our people. You wanted revenge on the Hushiur Tivr, to show them that they could not attack one of our own, to make the world safe for our kind – when it was the world that needed to be saved from us!" Marcus was walking faster now, and I imagine that his face was a mask of fury as his long sleeves slowly rose into the air, his stone arms hidden somewhere within. Benjamin was still keeping the snow whirling around us like some strange tornado, and Matty was still getting firewood. Judy and Zac were still with Nessie, with Tia. And Irina was still standing off to the side, not knowing what to do. "You said you wanted to come against the Cullens for violating the ancient law – and yet you had us bring all our guard, gather so many witnesses, and Athenodora and Sulpicia when they've scarcely left Volterra in centuries! You came preparing for war, a so-called god bringing his angels to bear. But the angels are gone, Aro, and I can remember now what I saw so long ago... power is not a means but an end, and one no more fights for peace than one burns for water or breathes to eat, especially you. I just want one thing, Aro..."

Marcus was but two yards from the red-eyed monster who'd started this all, and he but four or five more from the flames. And then, hand snapping out, he grabbed Aro by the throat and jumped the last few feet to hold him above the fire, crackling with the bodies of their dead servants and mates. Aro's hands went immediately to his neck, trying to pry off Marcus's hand, but anger or had made him strong, or maybe he'd always been stronger, I dunno, only that Aro couldn't do it, and it was all he could do to gasp out, "What?"

"I want to hear you scream."

He lowered Aro into the fire, the spots that licked him turning brilliant blue with the heat of it. But, as his arm lowered, Marcus's own long sleeves were caught up in the blaze, climbing quickly up the cloth and cloaking his entire body. He had to have noticed, but maybe the anger had overtaken him so far he'd couldn't feel anything else... I dunno. Only that they were both consumed in the flames, and even the whirlwind of snow died down as everyone watched the last of the Volturi die.

And then there were only ashes and fire. And silence.

Are cheers appropriate? Quil asked as the silence dragged on, the pack and the leeches that had fought on our side and the witnesses that hadn't that remained all watching as the fire consumed what should've died before Aeneas ever set foot on Italy, or whatever the truth of the past was.

I think they're in shock.

Wouldn't you be, realizing the government that ran your species for the last three thousand years is dead and overthrown?

Who's in charge now? Of the vampires, I mean? Does it go to the Romanians, since they're the oldest?

I wouldn't trust them ruling anything. They're insane, and, what little they aren't is just creepy.

The Cullens then?

I dunno.

I guess they're going to have to figure it out.

Fight it out, you mean.

No, figure it out... the witnesses that the Cullens gathered get along well enough, and whoever they want can be put in charge.

You think they'll vote on it?

Sometimes the threat of violence gets more across than actual violence.

'Kay then, but who would they want in charge? They made Zafrina their unofficial spokeswoman.

She can't wait to get back to South America and be in the "proper" woods there. She'd never want to be bothered with ruling.

Not the Egyptians, then, certainly. Not after Amun and Kebi ran out on us.

Siobhan?

Maybe.

Maybe it will be the Cullens then. The Cullens and the Denalis...

I hate politics, I said decisively. We fought the bad guys and we won. I say we party – and no pub-crawls.

Pubs? What is this, England?

Oh get over yourself, Ateara.

Let's at least get inside – my fur's all wet.

You're such a girl, Seth.

Well forgive me if I don't want to be covered in melted snow and vampire ooze.

We headed inside, Judy and Zack and Matty and Nessie too, and luckily vampire ooze and snow came off a lot easier human than wolf, and we were able to get dressed and raid the kitchen before the first of the vampires came trickling in – Benjamin, being largely supported by Tia. "Doing so much with the elements all at once always tires him. We will rest for a while, and then decide if we want to find Amun and Kebi."

"All the fun's here, Tee. Amun would hardly ever let us out of his sight again after this if we went back."

"Well, hopefully the fun is done here for a while."

"You kidding? It's just getting started... but we'll think about it. Hey, wolf-boy," all the pack but me turned from the food we'd found (thank God Esme is back! Hallelujah!), and I turned to see what they were all looking at. "You okay? I saw the log hit you..."

We all turned towards Matty, whose bruise was already yellowing. "Er... I feel a little off, but we heal really quickly."

"Well," I added, just having to say something, "everything but the hole in Seth's head."

Seth, leaning back in his chair so that it teetered on two legs, punched me in the leg (the only part of me he could reach from my perch on the sparkling counter). "Just 'cause you're my sister doesn't mean you get to me so mean all the time."

"Yes I do: it's in my contract, right between 'find hilarious baby pictures to share with potential girlfriends' and-"

"I hate you," he said, slamming his chair back down and leaning across the table to steal a bag of chips from Embry. I felt almost giddy enough to call him cute when he was angry, so happy was I that we weren't dead... I'd not been expecting this. We couldn't just make it out of this alive, could we?

"I was eating those, man – and don't try to to fool us. We all know 'I hate you' is Clearwater-speak for 'I love you to fucking pieces,' so don't try and act all manly on us now."

"Me and Leah took down Alec!"

"From what I saw, it was mostly Leah trying to keep you from getting your ass handed to you."

"Whose ass where?" Kate asked, coming through the door and pulling Garrett along after her.

"Seth's," I answered, "to himself."

"Well that'd be a perfectly awful waste of a przystojne zwierzęand his ass – don't look at me like that. You said I could look, so long as I didn't touch. 'Sides, one day I'm going to get you to let me watch-"

"Oh, go fuck a hamster already. Can't you see we're trying to eat here?"

"Fate of the vampire world being decided outside their doors, and the wolves want to eat. I tell you Garrett, what kind of sense does that make?" And then Kate jumped onto the counter beside me.

"None at all," he told her instead of doing something helpful like, I dunno, gagging her.

"God, you two are going to be worse than Twettle-Dead and Twettle-Deader out there, aren't you?"

"Yep – but only until you choose a china pattern."

I rolled my eyes and hopped off the counter, grabbing a bag of Oreos off the table. I was about to say something – I don't know what, something about china probably – when Matty suddenly went very, very pale. "Guys, who turned off the heat?" he said before a mouthful of red, red blood came sputtering out of pale lips.

Judy, sitting next to her brother, screamed and jumped out of her chair. Everyone else seemed ready to panic – but the bruises were healing! - and then Jake shouted, "Quil, get Carlisle," as he swept all the food off the table and, with Seth's help, pulled Matty, still coughing onto it.

I pulled Judy of the way, as she just stood there, watching her big brother spit up blood, and pushed her into Kate's arms. "Take the Guardian and get Mr. Mora."

"But-"

"We'll deal with the treaty later. Judy will show you the way."

"I want to stay-!"

"We'll run to the border and get the La Push pack to bring him. She can stay."

"Fine!" I shouted, and Judy ran back to her brother's side, grabbing a hand, looking almost as pale and shocked as he. "No," she was mumbling, I saw, "this can't be happening," but she was too far across the room now...

It only too a moment for Carlisle and Nurse Edward to come pouring through the door at superhuman speed. And then all of a sudden words like "pulmonary lacerations" and "haemopneumothorax" and they were saying that they needed to get him upstairs, to Carlisle's hospital equipment, and I didn't know what was going on, only that Matty was coughing up blood and nobody would tell me why and he was supposed to heal – it'd only been a little bruise and a little shock, nothing bad – the rest of us had gotten tonnes of scratches and cuts and were covered in dried blood but otherwise already healed – and he was not even fourteen yet, and there was a stream of vampires entering the house and we Edward and Seth were trying to carry Matty upstairs without hurting him further and the rest of the pack was following, Judy nearly tripping Seth up as she followed so close, and then there was a moment of sheer panic as Edward shouted to Carlisle, "His lung's collapsed," while they were on the stairs and though they tried and stuck a needle through his chest and could hear "breath sounds" and then...

And then...

"It doesn't sound right..."

"...air embolism..."

"...need to..."

"...surgery..."

"...hurry..."

"...flat-lining..."

"...get the paddles..."

"...charging..."

"...again!"

And then there was no sound as they unplugged their machines.

This couldn't have happened... He'd just been sitting with us a minute ago – he hadn't even fought the Volturi – we tried our best to keep him from harm... But now Carlisle was staring at me with sad eyes, about ready to tell us Matthew Mora was dead, and-

There was the sound of the door being pulled open, and then footsteps on the stairs before it had even slammed back into place. "Carlisle! Edward!" it was little Alice's voice, so high pitched and full of hope, "We found one! Another hybrid! His name's Nahuel... Oh, I hope we're not too late."


End file.
